After making love we share an orange in bed.
Without a word, you lift a naked slice to my lips.
From your hand the scent of delight comes drifting up.
I feel its dampness, its freshness and its ever-ness
all at once. Outside the window, the sun sets slowly
into our mouths, and we kiss with so much fervor
to stop the color from changing in this room.
Tag: female writer
Before Morning Comes
Subscribe to continue reading
Become a paid subscriber to get access to the rest of this post and other exclusive content.
Restless
After he’d gone to sleep,
she stared at the blank space
between his shoulder blades,
and she saw swirling galaxies
of thousands of nameless stars
bursting to be discovered.
Sometimes she wished him
a brave explorer, a curious
poet, a hopeless romantic.
Sometimes, deep into the night
when she couldn’t fall asleep
she wished him someone else.
Touch
my hand,
a few inches above your shoulder, a gesture,
a hesitation, a tired bird looking for a nest.
How infinitely close the Earth is to her beloved Sun.
How infinitely far you are to my uncertain touch.
Strangers
Subscribe to continue reading
Become a paid subscriber to get access to the rest of this post and other exclusive content.
Goodnight
May you wake up in time
to catch the last lingering star
leaving quietly into the haze of dawn
Know that it was there
Know that it gave you light
Not as dazzling as the blazing sun
But it loved you
It love you quietly
through the darkest night