LOVE

A flame in my heart is burning through my chest

and my stomach churns from the butterflies fluttering within.

The dark smut that was in my sights

has been wiped and my mind is clean,

precise and pristine.

I’m in love with life.

I’m in love with myself and

most importantly i’m starting to love everyone else.

No longer am i turning sour from the unknown variables that surround.

Because my heart and mind are now aligned.

Time to go out there and take whats mine.

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Kreteks After Sex

I order my taksi and step out the hotel doors to explore the galore of Indonesian folklore and beauty. The air is impregnated by the smoke of crackling clove scented cigarettes; they’re called kreteks, everyone and their mother smokes them. Through the cackling crowds of football hooligans I see my Blue Bird’s chauffer approaching, waving his phone to make sure I’m the foreigner who booked him. We hop into his whip and zip to my destination; his chariot weaves through cars, cyclist and avoids hitting mopeds carrying two ladies n three babies. He turns and says, “No worry, here in Java we all in a hurry.” 700 Rupiahs took me to the heart of Pondok Indah. Its picturesque and unique, filled with sweet hijab wearing queens that throw smiles and meaningful gestures that leave me gawking n weak. I prop up at a local coffee spot and initiate small talk with the waitress, she answered my questions, gave her recommendations and suggestions. Tables across, in no hinder, her snickering coworkers yell, “You should download Tinder!”

Connecting to the wifi, my new friend and I begin to build my superficially vile profile. Fotos of me were cherry-picked and rearranged to guarantee that my presence is seen. I thank her for the assist and she wishes me a safe trek. Smiling and swiping away, my gaze is dazed by the gratuitous splendor in 5-kilometer radius. Two swipes left, one right and a connection was erected, by a tremendous slender framed dame, with innocently bright eyes and a magnificently intriguing smile. Her red lipstick accents her scrumptious melanin and I’m gaped in awe questioning if what I just saw is real at all. Words are exchanged, basic information is fed and the jokes said poke at the possibility for us two to meet. Moments later, she agrees and we set our sights for rendezvousing at Saigon Delight.

I sit, wait for my anticipated date and to reduce confusion I text her what I’m sporting. {“White shirt, black shorts, brown hair, glasses n slippers.} In case you don’t recognize me.” I look up from my phone’s screen and see her humbling exquisiteness walking towards me. Approaching with a hypnotizing smile and an uplifting giggle, we hug meeting in the middle and mingle our way to our table. After a quick feast we debate over ordering a digestif or something sweet. But her conversation was a sufficient treat for me. Our talk had substance that was spicy, honest, raw and sweet; We got deep into murky waters talking about our faults and those that broke us down. If you ask me, that’s a bit too much for a first date. But her exalted mind has me intertwined and everything feels fine. Laughs, saccharine murmurs and deep stares into each other’s glare has me in a fumbling down stairs. Time goes by and the dark of night covers the sky, we think its best we stay together tonight.

We Grab a ride and talk about our hobbies; she likes to dive in ocean trenches to look at reefs and fishes. I flirtatiously tell her I’m a dirty poet looking for new content. She mocks a scoff and chuckles, while I twitch and try not blow the crotch off my britches, as she grips my thigh through this car ride. We demonstrated our values to another and engaged the other physically. I hand her my keys and we hysterically flee in glee through the hotel’s corridors. Making our way through my room’s doors our clothes hit the floor we pounced at another animalistically. Heavy breathing became the soundtrack to our obscene session of bumping *uglies* {Ahemm}… beautifuls. She’s a master diver with a knack at holder her breath. I’m gasping for air, with no scuba gear near, but like a tuna, I dive deep in a wet ocean of sheets and swim erotically alongside this Sudanese mermaid. The tide is high and flow of the current is too rough to battle, she hops on-board long stroking the paddle and her every cavernous stride got us closer to the edge of the cascade. Where we kiss and stared into another’s glare falling down the waterfall. Holding the other tighter as the cataract’s geyser diminishes, swimming her to safety depleted and finished. Oral resuscitation, along with pumps at 100bpm brought her back from seeing the light on the other side. Both smiling and surprise we survived making it out alive.

We slept in bliss in each other’s clutches and woke still groping bodies. Post breaking fast she says must leave to tend to her duties. Slowly gathering her belongings, joking and smirking constantly. Saying our farewells and wishing another a great day. “Enjoy Indonesia this holiday” bittersweetly rolls off her lips and I’m dismissed with a kiss as she boards the taksi; driving away, her lips spelled out, “Please don’t forget about me.” I smile and wave at her adorable display, thinking about the connection we made and the battle we faced. While my heart chokes seeing her disappear in the clove scented kretek smoke.

Lusting Lust – Duet (ft. T. Lee)

(OliviousMaximus)
Your hands placed on my chest
all digits spread across breasts.
Feel my heartbeat skip at the sensation,
of your finger's grip causing palpitations.
The emancipation proclamation,
of an emotional connection.
(T. Lee)
*(says connection at the same time)* 
connection
is all we really want 

to avoid
whenever we remember how this usually plays out 

Your friends won’t like me
and the ones that do 
like me a little too much 

My friends won’t like you
and the ones that do
Like you a lot too much. 

In the beginning,
You’ll remind me
I’m a work or art. 
Somewhere between 2 to 4 years 
our bright red nuance fades out to gray, like your favorite shirt,
I mean your shirt, that’s my favorite 
to wear.
-washed too many times
it used to have stains from the first food festival we went to,
but those left,
I used to wear it, but I’ll leave too 
when you tell me
I’m a real piece of work.
and that my art is shit. and that you’re tired of this relationshit.
Shit. At least you never hit me.
with anything other than words, or silence

But back to our regular programming: 
We’re anything but quiet tonight. 
aren’t we.
(OliviousMaximus)
Because our past stories are wiped clean,
like your internet search history.
A clean slate, to make new memories without debate.
Only holding on to what makes us shiver and quake,
I see you’re hesitant to get on-top of me.
So hear this plea, “TEACH me something, anything.” 
Because I yearn for these ears to burn,
by the drowning drone of your echoing moans.
So, dismiss the rudeness of my Australian Kiss,
that makes you flounder, from these smooches down under.
Sorry, pardon me for speaking too directly.
It’s just, that….

You’re doing something to me. I can’t explain it.
Should I hate this?

Not Enough Time

We met at ‘hatchi” for fun and karaoke,

then created a bond after feasting Japanese curry.

You laugh and fidget with your cigarette,

at the illicit words that spew out my face-spigot.

I’m sipping coffee and staring at you wondering,

“Where the hell have  Y O U  been!?”

Mesmerizingly long legs with hips that sway,

Leaving me drooling, begging to stay for another day.

“Better late than never” were your words to secure our stint together,

as I’m stuck hoping for another chance to see each other.

She’s a feminine dime with a tremendously sublime mind,

erecting connections worth keeping across our distant continents.

Caught in a bind and searching for more time,

we fight the clock to rock before my plane docks and takes flight.

With no disguise I stare into her eyes

and smile at how our hearts coincide.

Wounds open and honesty floods our ears,

It’s clear how the years have not been kind to our fears.

We’re two wordsmiths sharing the gift of description,

able to explain what’s really trapped in our observations.

I regret not meeting you at the beginning of my trek,

but I’m not upset at our hours spent.

Your only demand is to “cherish the moment,”

while I’m trying to s t r e t c h these last minutes.

Lusting Lust

Your hands placed on my chest,
all digits spread across breasts.
Feel my heartbeat skip at the sensation,
of your finger’s grip causing palpitations.
The emancipation proclamation,
of an emotional connection.
Because our past stories are wiped clean,
like your internet search history.
A clean slate, to make new memories without debate.
Only holding on to what makes us shiver and quake,
I see you’re hesitant to get on-top of me.
So hear this plea, “TEACH me something, anything.”
I yearn for these ears to burn,
by the drowning drone of your echoing moans.
So, dismiss the rudeness of my Australian Kiss,
that makes you flounder, from these smooches down under.
Sorry, pardon me for speaking too directly.
It’s just, that….
You’re doing something to me. I can’t explain it.

Should I hate this?