cierra la puerta…
You were once inside me.
You know the folds that define me.
You have tasted the flavour of love blossom and linger on me.
Our desire oozed and flowed from me, insatiable.
You have sucked me into such moans that
even upon recollection your cock springs into action.
You binged on me – sweating out my light, drowning in the deep dark.
My trust, a gift.
Our joy was a door caught in the wind’s wild rhythm.
Banging.
Banging.
Banging.
skyscrapers…
you promised you wouldn’t…
… but you did.
this is what we (don’t) do…
At any moment, you have a choice,
that either leads you closer to your spirit
or further away from it.
— Thich Nhat Hanh —
ask me…
Some time when the river is ice ask me
mistakes I have made. Ask me whether
what I have done is my life. Others
have come in their slow way into
my thought, and some have tried to help
or to hurt: ask me what difference
their strongest love or hate has made.
I will listen to what you say.
You and I can turn and look
at the silent river and wait. We know
the current is there, hidden; and there
are comings and goings from miles away
that hold the stillness exactly before us.
What the river says, that is what I say.
– William Stafford –