I wear the cape of shade
from the crape myrtle
with pride as I take
my fifteen minute break
from working beneath
a ninety degree sun.
The branches stretch above me
like a kindness
I didn’t earn, I can almost
Feel it rubbing my shoulders.
and for a moment
I forget the ache
in my lower back,
the sweat drying white
upon my shirt,
bills to pay,
mornings to survive.
I unfocus
and start daydreaming
about winning the lottery.
I’d buy a little house
somewhere quiet,
call my mother more,
sleep past sunrise,
learn what my own thoughts
sound like.
Yet in my dreams,
I wonder what follows,
Because money can buy shade,
but can it cool
the fires we carry?
Can it return
the people we’ve lost?
Can it convince loneliness
to pack its bags
and leave?
The whistle blows.
My break is over.
I rise from the roots
of the crape myrtle,
brush the dust,
and walk back
into the sunlight,
God,
could it save me,
or would I still be carrying
myself ?
2d ago
Jun 1, 2026 at 1:31 PM UTC
Ya sé,
mi amor,
mi divino
pasar del tiempo,
que apareciste
en mis brazos
cuando menos
lo esperaba.
Yo ya sé
que no eres
la misma chica
que una vez vi
soltar mares
sobre mis hombros,
mientras pesadillas
corrompían
tus sueños.
Y yo ya sé
que no busco
perdón
ni una respuesta,
pero ¿cómo dejar
de ahogarme
en este mar
de angustias,
mi sol caído,
que pintó
mis ventanas
de color,
mientras las aguas
de un ayer
ardían
y rugían?
A lo mejor
sé mucho,
amor mío,
sé demasiado.
Me pierdo
en mis propios
pensamientos,
dejo de vivir
por segundos,
minutos,
horas.
Me pierdo
pensando en ti,
en que quizá
debí quererte
como se quiere
lo intocable,
de lejos,
con el alma,
sin poner mis manos
sobre aquello
que hacía arder
tu sonrisa.
Apr 29
Apr 29, 2026 at 2:57 PM UTC
I want to lay my head
upon your chest
and hear ancestral drums
beating beneath your skin,
calling me home
to your arms once more.
I follow their rhythm
like a man who hasn’t
made peace with not
dying terribly young,
toward a forgotten country
where your breath rises
with the tide
and my loneliness loosens.
There, beneath the hush
of your breathing,
I arrive not as thought
but as hunger.
My hands disappear into
the warm geography of you,
learning the language
of your waist,
the slow scripture
written along your hips.
I rest where your warmth opens,
listening to your body
move like moon pulled water,
into the coastal silence where
your skin becomes sea air,
and I let desire carry me home.
Apr 28
Apr 28, 2026 at 1:29 PM UTC
Estoy fascinado
por la noche.
Aunque me acueste temprano,
siempre vuelvo
a contemplarla
en tu mirada.
Claro de luna,
raro esplendor,
belleza que asusta.
me da miedo
perderme en ti.
Apr 26
Apr 26, 2026 at 3:43 PM UTC
I look for stanzas
in the spaces between
the words that we share.
Your eyes hide
periods and commas,
your hair swirls with
poetry I have yet
to write.
And my love,
in the rocky terrain
down your hips,
runs toward the sea,
rivers formed
by your sun-kissed skin.
I wait for you
to illuminate my day,
to shine into the corners
of my room
with every step
that you take.
The shadows still
drift in on their own,
the walls still creak,
but I’ve learned
to sit with it,
to write
until it passes.
Apr 18
Apr 18, 2026 at 2:23 PM UTC
I dreamt of her again
last night,
safe beneath my roof.
I had visions of her
right in front of me,
there she stood,
as confident as ever,
laced in black lingerie,
a crooked smile
gifted by the sun,
like standing close
without getting burned.
It made the light bulbs
in the room flicker,
jealous,
angry.
Suddenly,
a stranger’s hands
grabbed my chest,
lifting me,
levitating above my bed,
possessed.
only to be dropped awake
into a sea of sheets.
And I, desperate
for that look in your eyes,
search beneath waves,
flinging my body,
kicking,
thrashing.
I drown myself
back to sleep,
but I can’t
find you again.
Apr 16
Apr 16, 2026 at 9:53 AM UTC
tonight
I write about the stars.
or try to.
they’re far.
still,
they stay.
so I stay up
talking to them
like they answer.
tonight
I also write
about you.
I don’t mean to.
sometimes
I loved you.
fast.
before I could think.
slow too
like I had time.
sometimes
you loved me back.
in a way
that felt like
it needed something
to hold.
I remember the rain.
your voice in it.
your eyes,
a place
I stayed too long in.
your skin
carrying
where you came from.
I remember
loving you.
I wish
I didn’t.
sometimes.
Apr 13
Apr 13, 2026 at 8:53 PM UTC
only the night sky
knows what happened.
I dropped to my knees
like breathing.
in front of you.
the moon stayed.
the stars too.
they saw
what the sun
never does.
we met
like two currents,
didn’t fight it.
just became
the same movement
for a while.
the night was cold.
wind in your hair
undoing it
without asking.
I remember
how easy
it was
to be there.
then it wasn’t.
we stopped going.
stopped finding
that place.
the sky stayed.
the same constellation
waiting,
but we didn’t.
we didn’t meet again.
Apr 13
Apr 13, 2026 at 8:44 PM UTC
Maybe I won’t see you again,
Or hear you,
or smell the rain
That washed through your hair.
Maybe I won’t feel the sun
That comes after.
So I’ll go to sleep
With thoughts of you,
And keep you
Close in my dreams.
Apr 2
Apr 2, 2026 at 12:42 PM UTC
It has been so long
since I’ve seen her eyes,
I was starting
to forget what they looked like
against the contrast
of a beautiful morning.
I dream of her
every blue moon,
but only in sleep
can I get this close,
feel the warmth
of sun leaking through
those old yellowish blinds,
touching skin
I can’t reach.
I see her
when I shouldn’t,
in photos,
in half-watched videos,
in the sound of laughter
that once belonged
to this room.
Some things don’t leave,
they just stop answering.
Mar 30
Mar 30, 2026 at 5:10 PM UTC