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I miss the simplicity of slow dancing, swaying with someone under dim lights or even no lights at all, just the music of the moment guiding us. I long for the quiet exchange of handwritten notes, folded corners, and scrawled words that felt more intimate than text ever could. There’s something irreplaceable about holding hands, feeling the pulse of another life interwoven with your own, a silent affirmation of connection.

I miss the affection; the casual, unspoken touches that say everything. The surprise of it all: an unexpected romantic gesture that brightened the day for no other reason than love. There’s an almost sacred joy in taking care of someone when they’re ill and not feeling themselves, the chance to nurture and be there in their vulnerability.

Cooking meals together, spending holidays together, planning a trip that revolves only around us, reading chapters to one another, carrying your things, buying flowers just because; these small rituals hold so much love in their simple execution. I miss sharing a stunning view with someone who feels the same way about the world, the silent communion that comes from recognizing beauty together.

Every love language matters in romance: the touch of a hand, the words that lift each other up, the thoughtful gifts, the unexpected surprises, the moments of service where we care without being asked, and the time spent simply being. They are all pieces of the puzzle that make romance whole, that make it feel alive and present in every interaction.

——————

I miss the fold of your notes,
handwritten, curved,
as if the words themselves
were meant only for us to read.

I miss the simple joy of your hand in mine,
our fingers woven tightly,
a quiet language spoken
through skin and pulse.

I miss the sudden warmth of affection,
unprompted touches that bloom
unexpected, like the harvest in your garden,
The element of surprise,
the way love shows up
in places we never thought to look.

I miss the kitchen conversations,
meals made with laughter
and shared glances over a simmering ***.
And buying flowers, just because
a day felt brighter with them in your hands.

I miss the view from that hilltop,
how we laid there, silently drinking in
the world’s beauty
and found it mirrored in each other’s eyes.

I miss the romance,
the essence of what made us whole,
the moments we froze in time,
just long enough to call them ours.


— Sincerely, Boris
Judging opinions
by their age
proscriptions
lie in wait

Consensus stained
with fear and guilt
folly
overstates

Knowledge of others
unknown to self
deception points
one way

Value weighed
in layers of dust
the truth held
—far at bay

(Dreamsleep: October, 2024)
Just realized something

I write poems about Identity

As well as poems about gender

BUT

I forgot to update my gender

Time to add the right gender

Ooh and pronouns too!

Showing who I am

So have a smile

From me to you! :)
I used to think chastity
was a five year old who
knew nothing about ***.
The kind of innocence
I longed for as an adult too much.
Now a ****** who knows everything.
I still hate that to this day.
Yet what’s wrong  with
a tiger striped dove?
Fight in the flight or visa versa.
A lot of people in our culture
view purity as something *****.
Yet a lot of people in our culture
view the ****** as way too cool.
Where is the balance?
There has got to be one.
Chastity to me is staying
true to the one you love.
There is so much more!
this is one of my extremely rare good days. I’m fighting something extremely difficult right now. I’m seriously trying to stay off social media BUT… this post hit me.
https://youtu.be/GPLsK3I-VIE?si=GbPhmeLMP6LpBxqt
I see you
bursting like dolphins
from a grassy sea.

Crownless,
it is for the light on your leaves
I would honor you.
Silver rippling, with the breeze and the thunder.

And you among them
still, with gold on your bent
stalk. My heart goes out to you.
Linger a little longer, fairest
one. When spring comes again
I will look for you.
https://youtu.be/DVebPEyrors
Itch
Scratch

A rash calf-

It took years for
The bark to spread-
Leg-trunk-head

Til roots sank from
Foot soles to
Molten core of iron-

For limbs to sprout from
Eyes-ears-mouth to
Foliate-

For boy to man
To grow-

Begin rustling

To speak or
Scream into the
Howling wind
Being in love with life,
with love.
Love for living things.
Nature, music,
You,
who I haven’t met yet.
Like
a melody I haven’t heard yet.
Warming my heart already,
making me happy.
Just waiting to be born.

And there I was, in a colorful world.
Listening to the song of
nature.
Watching all kinds of animals and all kinds of people together in harmony.
Wondering where all the water was.
Then I recognized you.
You are my mother, my brother
my sister
You are me and I love you
Human being.



Shell ✨🐚
We are all human beings. Little different from the outside but just the same !!
Let’s love each other and stop the useless hating.
What’s happening to others today can easily be happening to you tomorrow.
Stop the useless wars.
World Peace please!
I know I am so naive.
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