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Becca Calvillo Feb 2012
how can I describe the sweetness of your breath
          as I inhale it
the roughness of your chin
         when you kiss me
the stubbiness of your nails
          as you clutch my hand in yours
the tickle from your diaphragm against mine
          as your bed time breaths steady and deepen
the softness of your eyelids
         always hidden by your glasses
the coarseness of your hair
         as its laced between my fingers
your dynamic eyebrows
the gaps between your teeth
your long second toe
I can't sleep, I'm hyper aware of your presence next to mine.
Becca Calvillo Feb 2012
Entangling my fingers on the curly q's across your chest
You're nibbling on my ear as you help me get undressed

My heart is pounding, mind is racing
You kiss me fiercely, we're embracing

On my back, we're on your bed
You've pinned my arms above my head

Hold me, squeeze me, kiss me, please me
I am yours to be led.
Becca Calvillo May 2011
Invitation to my First Exploration

of a Neighborhood I now call My Own

My Gateway to Assimilation

My Window to the World

My source of Freedom

         when the Streets , the City are otherwise Unreachable

A Place for Habit

          that Cannot be carried back

A Record Player of Noise, Music, Conversation

  Foreign and yet Familiar

A Home for my Drying Rack

  of Thoughts, Ambitions, Fears

An Escape from the Chaos

A Last Glance

at the Reality I Will Never Forget
Becca Calvillo Apr 2011
I didn't need her to tell me not to.
The tubes running from her nose, behind her ears, across the floor
they speak for themselves.
But there's something about being here,
knowing she was.
And that we both enjoyed this landscape
as we lit,
an end for her
and a beginning
for Me.
Becca Calvillo Oct 2010
Rumpled sheets
Stacked dishes
Heaped clothes

Agenda
Script
Novel
Novel
Novel

Slipping shoes on
Arriving almost
Staying after

Dedication
Perserverance
Optimism

Did anyone ask you?
Becca Calvillo Oct 2010
your protagonistic role
in my life
hinders my ability to
live.

your constant state
of self loathing
dampens my chances at.
optimism.

and yet,

your charming appreciation
for  my ethics
impassions me to
strive
and
yield.
I don't know what to call this.
Becca Calvillo Oct 2010
I speak I write I sing I yearn
for something more than just discern
cannot grasp, not tangible
what I long for's impossible
to find if you are trying to seek
in the mean time I must fill my need

I speak I write I sing I crave
to be the best without delay
learn the most and fill my brain
speak the truth without refrain
have the fame, know where it's at
hope that others will know that

I speak I write I sing I wish
for someone who will share my bliss
ful tendencies, who will want me
rely on me to fill their need
tell me that they know I can
cause

I speak I write I sing I am
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