Vortex

Cigarette lingers

delivering a smoky kiss

to her thorax

Like the winter’s sun

mystery shadows on alpine

innocence will fade.

He’d sit next to her

Like the gypsy’s rendition,

she’d become younger.

His voice is her salt

caramel mixed with charm

hopeful till the end

She is an Iglo

His heart now her vortex

lonely nights no more

He took her hand in his

He sang an age long lullaby

longer than she’d care for.

Flickers of belle âme

First movie her eyes allowed her see

a ballet of sorts

In another time

They could be perfect strangers

Perhaps another millennium.

Pure love and Poetry

Love.

Love sweet as a honeypot

Love that entices and wounds me in it’s grip

Pure love that oxidises, only getting darker, gentler, more poetic

as it vibrates in a frequency above all energies

Resonating like minds together, I mean twin souls

like twin souls I’m designed to resonate with you

Feel what you feel

Ache where you ache.

If you would let me,

let me feed you this poetry,

Poetic love as seasons change

Swaddle you in my arm long after the summer solstice is gone,

gone like the plague of jealousy

replaced by pure love and poetry.

Let me vibe with you across planets and dimensions

Inebriate on the language that rolls off your chest

and roll on your chest, like everyday is the last time.

I’ll taste your tongue like whipped cream

and smell your warm cheek as it it were waffles.

Love like the largest north star could not encompass

The magnitude of two exploding meteors showers.

If love had a sound, it would be jazzy blues

with a hint of funk as four saxophones breath out in one voice

and an undertone of bass, soothing enough to melt diamond hearts,

your colour and my palette, compatible.

Gliding on wings, till infinity and beyond

I would lose myself inside of you again and again,

till you find me.

you reach your arm around my waist, so boldly

Your souvenirs are the scratches I leave on your back

as you eat the fruit of longing, the peach of intellect

Sip from the dark berry, supple and juicy,

till your thoughts slow grind with mine, meditation.

Let me meditate in you for a while longer

on an bed of clouds in a warm mood, Chiado vibes

until pure love and poetry intervenes, yielding climax

and you’re heaving coz you’re out of breath, me too.

Then we can lie in a glisten of sweat, unashamed

because pure love and poetry is healing in motion.

How I got engaged

 Those video archives on the internet always seem longer, but my proposal took less than 2 mins, and now I have a new treasure for my memory box.

Our Beginning

We met 3 years ago on a dating app. Neither of knew what  we wanted, but a glitch in the time-space continuum turned two strangers into something more. We’ve had our fair share of turmoils, often breaking up for a varying lengthy periods. Despite being of the same age, we are polar opposites in more ways than one. I was emotionally unintelligent, whereas Viktor had a  more evolved thought process. Ultimately, My curiosity towards learning drew me to him. His objective views keep me grounded. We eventually decided to buckle down and figure out a common ground

The Nightmares

Since meeting my parents in June, I’ve had an inkling he was going to propose, which left me rather anxious. I had recurring nightmares, like Aliens possessing my body, forcing me to denounce him and creating an awkward scenario. In another, I was naked. Tired of the nightmares, I confronted him. We got into the details like the size of my finger and how the event should transpire. In the nightmares, it was public like airports or restaurants, and I wanted none of that.

Surprise Surprise

Despite eliminating one element of surprise, I still didn’t know when it’ll happen. When we arrived Lisbon last week, he told me he booked a boat tour. I pictured big bus sightseeing tour or something similar. I wasn’t even gonna dress up, then I saw him all suited up with his dressing shoes, so I changed everything on me. As a result, we were running late. 

As we arrived at the port, there were no big sight-seeing ship, instead we met an ocean skipper who took us to a sailing boat. I wanted to scream, he’d made me run out almost without a pair of earrings and it was just the two of us?  They could have waited since we booked the entire boat.

Let me sidetrack for a bit, I have a real time ( and numbers) disproportion. While my Fiancé would rather be always 7 mins early, I prefer to be there exactly on time, as you may have guessed,  this never happens as I’m always  late. Good timing is yet another thing I’m learning from him.

Boats are scary!

I got over it quickly when the boat started to move and the skipper narrated to us about the monuments. As we drifted father down the river, I walked (more like duck for fear of falling overboard) to the front of the boat to experience the full view. 

Perfect timing

He said he’d be right behind, yet he was talking secretively with our captain. I figured it was either about football or EU politics. Eventually he came at the perfect time… when the gust grew stronger and I got so cold. I hugged him very tightly. The song “moon river” came across my mind which translated into the poem I published HERE on Monday

I said Fix it

7 mins later, the sailor waltz over and asks us if we want a picture, I always want a picture when I look good.  we got up, me shaking like autumn leaves. In the next moment, he was searching his jacket for something, and I knew this was it.My reply to his question was “fix it”, a little inside joke between us, then I said yes.

Authenticity rocks

Later at the restaurant, he apologised for the size of my diamond. But one of his  most admirable qualities is his authenticity, something the rock on my finger glaringly reveals.  He could have bought Zirconia, or borrowed money from people in other to buy a ring bigger than his pay-cheque, but he stayed true to me, and most importantly to himself.

End note

It took less than 2 mins, but a lot of thought and planning was behind it, Some people prefer grand surprises, I got the perfect holiday gift I could ever wish for,  If you’re engaged, married, or have family who is, you have to share your story in the comments.

We’re leaving Portugal today and I’m so sad, but a part of my life will be connected to the river Tagus. Thank you for taking time away from your festive shopping to read my long ass story. Remain in his blessings.

Sailin’ to forever

The river waxed and waned

inviting us further into it’s intoxicating lush blues

which melded with the yellow sun

lending us it’s vibrant royal glow

beside me was him,  and he glowed also

I was captured like a sailor to a siren

Because the precedented fear I had was absolved

And I was free

Free to bask in his luscious touch

Free to let him linger from  my cheek to groin

Free to let the skies tell me a story

My favourite being the one of Tsui and Lai, the spirits of the skies

And I wondered if the azure waves crashing around us possessed a spirit too

But the wind exerted it’s hold on us

The hair on my back stood as it pushed and pulled

So I anchored myself to his arm and he drew me in

Far from the harsh meandering war 

I looked into his big cartoon eyes, they were ever so indecisive

I couldn’t tell if they were blue or grren

Gray or hazel

They were whatever the skies and water was

as indecisive as my heart has always been

wandering between  blue waters and green meadows,

gray clouds and hazel chestnut

But in that moment my heart found halcyon peace, securely in his arms

And I decided I wanted that love, those shoulders,

that smile, those eyes in my life

not only for tonight when the harsh wind gave me to to him

The one i’ trust in forever, even as two meteors collided.

Reckless Lovers

Candles check.

Chardonnay check.

Roses check.

Not to downplay the foreplay

but second chances is only fair play

He thought so

So did she.

Without  reflex or resentments.

They toy with the notion

that sets it into motion

Before hand the thought of his presence brought commotion

discriminating bravado romance from reckless emotions.

lips plum  like cherry

inviting her to make merry

from monasteries in january

with groins so heavy

tensions released via missionary

Musky pheromones dance through her sinus

on a stale autumn night

all that is needed are

A dopamine high

An Aphrodisiac

His lingering fingers

Her hard nipples

The nape of his neck

the arch of her back

His broad chest

Her fluffy buttocks

His breath. Her breath. Synchronised

While vibing to Al Green’s, ‘sha la la’

Spinning on the vinyl recorder

till the first light of day spews through the velvet curtains

Gemima

The last time I heard from Gemima,  she told me I was fiercely rebellious and we were polar opposites. Alas after several monsoons, here she is serenading me the same tune. She says she’s evolved, that she never gave up. She’s telling me she failed me when she seized believing in us. Gemima tells me that each night she spent away from me made her  bones frail.

With all her vibrant hues, Gemima says the valley spoke to her, the only language she could understand. Her glassy eyes wander far into the distance, to shadows of climaxing eagles.

She says I was her hero, a sight for sore eyes

I quiver from her lingering gaze, her trembling hands found mine. Her grip reminds me of everything I let go. My cheeks fluster and I wonder if she still cares for me. Her ebony skin glistens below the vantage sun, revealing new tribal inks.

I imagine her to be my Tutu, only more regnal. Perhaps Beethoven reveled on her physique when he composed that daringly magnificent medley.

I know her inside-out, and she could discern every needling thought of my densely silent mind. She could never meet my gaze, her guilt wouldn’t allow.  Even as my breasts rested on her supple thighs, eons of heartache resonate in her. This time around, I hope I make her speechless too.

18 years have passed, yet she’s found her way back to me as though our blood echoes insouciantly to each other, begging to be sealed in writing. And we love to revel in despair, like the snake and the mongoose.

Retrospectively, I  realize that the bare thread lingering between us is strained beyond repair yet even if the sun drowns in a cloudburst, Gemima creates the tenebrous riptide in my nirvana I can’t help but covet. The scars she left won’t heal for another eighteen years.

A Lover’s Quest

Your haughty eyes

Your formidable charm

I suspect you’ll  have more to unravel 

           I want you nowhere near me

                               tonight

       But when this last drop of wine           

                 lingers on my tongue

     perhaps you’ll  be more befuddled 

                   about my innocence.

Suspicious

A Kiss before Friday

Let’s not play this game termed desire

It tires me so

She opens her palm

and in the center of the crease

a form,

translucent, symmetrical

like the dew-drop on a rose petal.

 

I  just want to talk

about how I feel

I’m meant to be somewhere

next to you.

and here you are,

before me.

Maybe there is a God after all.

 

She glances down

her hands, quivering

perhaps shock overwhelms her,

or desire reveals itself?

 

 

Her eyes say

We yearn for the truth

in the most outrageous ways,

but her heart is beguiled

by the insidious tales

of a hopeless romantic.

 

She said,

Let’s get drunk on bourbon

and share a kiss before Friday,

sway with me around the courthouse

like it’s nobody’s business.

Our voices echo

a tone of youthful promises.

 

 

The dance steps of the performer she knew

became the footprints of a stranger

At least we agree

that to love a stranger is one thing

but to live with them is another.