rawr…

Dear Gentle Sir,

This hunger aches; it spreads through every inch of me. It takes me in and turns me inside out, over and over again.  It makes me forget that I am me, this hunger. This heat of desire, this need, and impossible want, reveals me – shows to me the self that I have never truly known. And each time you see me and accept me, you reintroduce me to myself.  You are a magician and I become a mystery.  With you, even the familiar seems a surprise.

Tonight, I think of you.
I think of you and hunger… or maybe it’s the other way around.

Rawr,

Lola Moi xo

the earth whispers…

The universe is small enough
to hold hands with mystery
as it stuffs another number in its pocket.
Vast, starlit skies
pause in their dance with the moon
looking for keys that jangle
in some unseen corner of a shoulder bag.
Silver spills like milk across a prussian-hued nightstand.
The earth whispers, “Shhhh…”
tucking in against the chill
while verdant winds weep
sneak
along a nape
daring to loiter in hair now tied back, taut.
The earth whispers, “Shhhh…”
We stop
and our echoes diminish.
Love is mute
and I have gone to bed.

– Lola Moi –