I didn’t want to kiss you goodbye
— that was the trouble —
I wanted to kiss you goodnight.
— Ernest Hemingway —
mírame…
I recently read that there is no greater intimacy then to hold your lover’s eyes as you cum. I believe this to be true. The trick is to find another who is brave enough to bear such beauty in their soul… this light called Hope.
say something…
the way we live now (or, in search of lost time)…
Tonight, the moon is sombre though you wouldn’t know it;
it nestles its backside into the sky’s lap, each buck-and-grind a falling star.
Nights like this make one ache in mysterious ways.
A man once fingered me in a dark parking lot. His fingers were long and clever. He growled his pleasure in my ear and bit my lip. When he made me cum, my head fell back with air clusters catching in my throat. His kisses were coos. Tears streamed down my face; he said they tasted sweet, like stardust.
Constellations were the First Stories; we are all descended from such brilliance. We are the dreams of ancestors come true. When we look into another’s eyes, we give up the secret of what we most need – the Darkness holds it until the wind takes it up… and away, back to its first breath.
We are the ache of life’s mysterious ways.
The moon is restless as you lick my skin with the tip of your cock.
Tonight, the darkness holds us.
We are not alone.
– Lola Moi –
hallelujah…
… And remember when I moved in you
The holy dove was moving too
And every breath we drew was Hallelujah
– Leonard Cohen –