#triad
I have a vision of my future
one I’m not sure could ever come true
A vision where the world won’t judge
the love I share with you
A vision of my future
where I could have the guts
To hold your hand in public
Hold each other on the bus
I wish that I could find a place
where I will not be shamed
For gazing in your pretty eyes
that lack in any pain
I wish we could get married
without hearing a complaint
And no one thought twice of our lives and we were normal, plain
But as we walk the sidewalk
most people stare and gawk
As though we are a freak show
or evil they must stop
I only want to love you
Without living in fear
I wish that I could say “I do”
and keep my lovers near
May 21, 2021
May 21, 2021 at 10:55 AM UTC
Intertwining limbs....one, two, three hearts beating as one
laughing and gasping, dying for air, but never feeling more alive
they take in the moment, tasting skin so sweet
monogamy will never feel this way
monogamy will never know love like this, will never know lust like this.
Jan 1, 2016
Jan 1, 2016 at 4:50 PM UTC
Thunder, and Lightning decided to open up their relationship.
Invited me to join them in a Triad.
Thunder and lighting have this eternal connection,
Belong together
I love watching them dance
Perform for me impulsive without leashes
I worship the trust that requires
The loyalty, faith in each other
Flying wherever they want,
Loving loud and without boundary
Knowing this storm belongs to them.
Safety, Definition: that moment after every passionate lovers kiss.
We are worshiped as the same storm.
Now I have the oppurtunity to build intimate connections with thunder.
With lightning.
Thunder has this base drop palpitation
Our hearts twitch in time just to align
The feeling of her crushing my butterflies
With firm hands, a passionate kiss that lasts only seconds.
Lighting comes in these quick bursts
I never feel like I can look at him long enough
Bright, dangerous
Knows he could **** me in a second
If he only touched me
He will never touch me
Only dance
Never long enough
Keeps me craving more
Likes to give me that headrush
When he returns.
As for me,
I was content just worshiping them
Every second they weren't worshiped,
Wasted chances, lost time, missing puzzle peices.
I didn't expect an invitation
This chance to see them honestly
Two seperate beautiful creatures to worship
Instead of one savory storm to feel pulse through me as one dancer.
I'm just an awestruck boy staring at the sky
Lost in endless baby blue, warm off sunrays, or choosing my favorite freckles in the stars
More lovers to distract me when they are gone.
Jun 1, 2017
Jun 1, 2017 at 3:26 PM UTC
For many,
the first skims the cream off naivety
perhaps too swiftly.
It's frantic.
Filled with awkward urgency
to reach a milestone.
So it goes
For-evermore.
Hardly a chance to savour its parting
Too green to fathom the sway of regret.
The second spars for individuality.
Experimentation, Development
experience.
Other boxes ticked.
Lessons learned.
Rawness verses prowess
'till one bows out exhausted
and the other learns,
eventually,
how to recover
and strengthen.
Hardened,
the third treads carefully.
Logic and wisdom
balancing with basic needs.
It is more selfish
and yet, more generous.
A slow exposure.
Relaxed standards
yet, heightened self-respect.
Honesty and acceptance.
A comfortable settlement of equality.
If it does or does not last
it will be the last
either way
for many.
Sep 15, 2014
Sep 15, 2014 at 7:57 PM UTC
My menorah is three-branched:
three the lamps that light my firmament
one, ineffable, more ancient than time
the other immanent,
and the third, the Lamb, incarnate love.
I drank of the them in a drop
of the tears the autumn sky shed.
Yea, I held a camphor to the skies.
An eternal flame, that
burns in the chamber of the heart
where I stand anointing the beloved's
feet in perfumed oil. This crimson eve
when the shadows return,
I kneel lost in the light of his love.
A silken stream from the unknown
that gushes silent in the creeks
of the heart, where I sit in gratitude
feeling the warmth in my palms.
Aug 24, 2014
Aug 24, 2014 at 1:19 PM UTC
she in
jade pink
how smooth
her face
that let
her wink
and about
face a
seldom act
of depravity
is being
a triad
but in
the mix
has her
wed to
vows untouched
Jun 2, 2018
Jun 2, 2018 at 8:01 AM UTC
My words have substance, substance. Even when I don’t write in threes, threes, threes, threes. This pattern has a hold but I will escaped, I will stop, I will untrap my brain, I will leave the pattern, I will not repeat in groups of threes.
Policing my thoughts and creations the triad had its hold, hold, hold, hold, hold. Learning to unformat my brain because not every piece has a slot, slot. Now I let my Thoughts run free, thoughts run unchained, thoughts run chaotically, thoughts run organically.
I am giving up control, control, control, control. Triads don’t keep me safe, safe, safe, safe, safe. I have escaped the pattern. I have escaped the triad for good.
Jul 4, 2020
Jul 4, 2020 at 6:31 PM UTC