Boy
Attachment is not love

I was choking under your grasp
Soaking me in guilt and past lives.

Plucking away my ultimate freedom.

Showering me with love. Until your words take me elsewhere.
*******.
I like being dominate

Let me go.

I haven’t had a partner in so long that I’ve forgotten I am single.
The memory foam on the left side of my bed only knows left over books and plates.

The empty places replaced with the things I learned I loved.
Only open spaces here are for self-affirmations doused in lavender.
Most of which I loved was uncherished until I had room for it.
The parts of myself I could never find underneath the cover of someone else.

The sheets get wrapped between my legs and for a second, I am reminded of how untangled I am.
How free it feels to be in a place you didn’t wish you were somewhere else or someone else.
A brief recollection of finally not being lost in another.
Deep open breaths of I am finally here.

I am reminded how calm this place feels – the comfort of not missing anything. How the spaces in between are cultivated by a reflection of my love - not those I once loved.

in the absence
of
the beloved
Switzerland
feels like
the Kalahari
the Sahara
or the Mojave
desert
and
heaven
becomes
hell

Knight of the night
Fearfully incising the hearts
Of those you pass
With pasts
Of unreliable mothers
Fathers
And caregivers

Knight of the night
I try to look
At your presence
As a gift
But in the midst
Of your silken touch
And unsuspecting kisses
Pressing heavier
You've made your impact

Knight of the night
I wonder of your return
Do you feel shame
In your silence
Of naming this sweetness
A forbidden fruit

It will not swallow you,
I promise
I will not let it
For if there is a day
You feel you cannot leave
I will lead you to the garden
And leave you there
So you can grow

Someday I will return
To enjoy the fruits
Of which we loved and labored
Abundant

These,
Gifts of two worlds
Please, realize
You need not be chained

Gifts
Of our worlds
Are to be celebrated
Unshackled
From self-imposed narratives
Free

I am a coffee mug,
Earthy, clayey, rotund and pouty.

I feel loved, embraced and wanted by you most times, other times I wonder.

I would rather be in your hands, kissing your lips and at least by your side in the outdoors or by the soft yellow light by your bedside where you linger with me and the brew lost in your thoughts or a beautiful book.

I live in harmony with your favourite blue wooden tray- my carriage, the small silver spoon- to stir up a storm and create music in me, and that cane worn out coaster that fits my round ample bottoms  so well.

I dream of holding magical coffee brews from lands close and far, dark.
Robust, wholesome that would make you moan in delight.

I sometimes dread that you read too much in wellness and what if you get influenced to drink less of coffee and fill me up with some detox potion, oh I worry about that so!

I am so majestic, grand and covetable and you love me so, so many options you have,
but to me is always where you go.

I stay awake humming while you sleep, in the morning I pour love into my crevices to welcome the brew just right for you.

The best thing I have done is to never give up on you but I just reciprocate what you do too💕

I sometimes carried brews so yucky for  you,
Despite your love, I feel guilty of needing constant validation from you.

My favourite time is bringing in the dawn together with you or watching the rain while you lovingly caress me watching the pitter patter of  raindrops on your windowsill.

The point of my life is to spread joy and give lovingly and empty myself for you.

I would like to be remembered as your forever favourite, giving, loving, being held till my last crack and then you make me into art to lie by your bedside  as your favourite coaster to welcome the new one
but I will be your forever one☕️

If you say to me, "I need you", it's not a weakness.
It is a giving.
It is
   a trust in me to know, and I know;
You love me and choose to depend on me.
Because--  you could fetch the cup of water
  yourself, with your strong legs, your long legs, or
You could ask me,
Sitting on the writing desk we put somewhere in the living room.
   Next to the kitchen, my love, next to the kitchen.
(Because when I write, I like to watch you cook)

You could ask me, to reach,
for the cup, with my short legs.
You could ask me because we know, and we know,
You love me and choose to depend on me.

I will reach for the cup. I will reach for the cup because I love you
and I know, I know, when you say you need me,
it is a giving.

i'm tied
i've tried to cut this string
that attaches me to you
but the knotted rope is too thick
and my scissors too dull