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"lunita" poems
Dear Baby, at this moment I am 22 and you are just an idea – a twinkle in my eye. But my dear twinkle, even just as you are, you must know this: there are great things that make this existence of ours worth experiencing. Poetry Beauty Romance Love *Oh captain, my captain These are what we stay alive for.* Now let me tell you a story, mi lunita and may you be born with a mind filled with love romance beauty poetry. Once upon a time, I met your papi for the first time in a dream – of this I am certain. I stood in front of my friends and family in a room of heavenly white. I remember the curve of papi’s shoulder in his nicest black suit. I remember vows being whispered in my ear and the way the light looked behind my eyelids. I know this was your papi for two reasons: 1.) He is the only man I have loved that would think to whisper marriage vows – creating a secret, just for us. Our love has always been just for us. Private. Sacred. Why do they have to know everything? 2.). On our first date, I opened the door and in a burgundy shirt red carnations in hand, was your papi. His lips were shaped like the Amen to my whole life’s prayer and I couldn’t stop myself from embracing him. So often, baby your body remembers what your soul has seen but your mind has long forgotten. Listen, my love Find the quiet. Feel your soul settled into you. There is so much to remember. Mi lunita, I remember you.
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Jul 9, 2017
Jul 9, 2017 at 3:56 PM UTC
sam-wenz
lunita
Dear Baby, at this moment I am 22 and you are just an idea – a twinkle in my eye. But my dear twinkle, even just as you are, you must know this: there are great things that make this existence of ours worth experiencing. Poetry Beauty Romance Love *Oh captain, my captain These are what we stay alive for.* Now let me tell you a story, mi lunita and may you be born with a mind filled with love romance beauty poetry. Once upon a time, I met your papi for the first time in a dream – of this I am certain. I stood in front of my friends and family in a room of heavenly white. I remember the curve of papi’s shoulder in his nicest black suit. I remember vows being whispered in my ear and the way the light looked behind my eyelids. I know this was your papi for two reasons: 1.) He is the only man I have loved that would think to whisper marriage vows – creating a secret, just for us. Our love has always been just for us. Private. Sacred. Why do they have to know everything? 2.). On our first date, I opened the door and in a burgundy shirt red carnations in hand, was your papi. His lips were shaped like the Amen to my whole life’s prayer and I couldn’t stop myself from embracing him. So often, baby your body remembers what your soul has seen but your mind has long forgotten. Listen, my love Find the quiet. Feel your soul settled into you. There is so much to remember. Mi lunita, I remember you.
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Is the moon dead or is she alive or is she, said moon, really a man and does he have hands and does she have teeth and do they wonder as they look down what kind of star I am if I am even a star at all perhaps I am a meteoroid I seem to be small enough or perhaps I am a comet pale, cold, and ***** constantly shying away from the sun leftover from the beginning of time ~ ~ ~ Dear Cascabelera, I am writing to you because I've grown lazy in my heart less patient in my mind and my eyes, wide and salty as the sea, foam with fear of depths As you stand there, brilliant and luminous in all your ways I lay here faithfully underneath you as I have for the past twenty-one years there is no greater devotion than ours, I know Yet as I lay here, still, underneath your gloaming with nothing to feel and no one to hold but my sadness I cannot help but wonder are you dead are you alive are you here by choice have you any tears to cry? Cascabelera, I want to embrace you sweetly in the early morning lunita, lunera I want you to lay with me in the dark
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Nov 4, 2013
Nov 4, 2013 at 6:08 AM UTC
arubybluebird
the quiet front
Is the moon dead or is she alive or is she, said moon, really a man and does he have hands and does she have teeth and do they wonder as they look down what kind of star I am if I am even a star at all perhaps I am a meteoroid I seem to be small enough or perhaps I am a comet pale, cold, and ***** constantly shying away from the sun leftover from the beginning of time ~ ~ ~ Dear Cascabelera, I am writing to you because I've grown lazy in my heart less patient in my mind and my eyes, wide and salty as the sea, foam with fear of depths As you stand there, brilliant and luminous in all your ways I lay here faithfully underneath you as I have for the past twenty-one years there is no greater devotion than ours, I know Yet as I lay here, still, underneath your gloaming with nothing to feel and no one to hold but my sadness I cannot help but wonder are you dead are you alive are you here by choice have you any tears to cry? Cascabelera, I want to embrace you sweetly in the early morning lunita, lunera I want you to lay with me in the dark
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