i lay beside you, evenly


I lay beside you, evenly,
And like this and like that
We forget things
Until evening. Then a glass of wine,
Then olives. I brush your hair.

We are disturbed by wind, scratching
At the door. We rub together matches.
The way is lit, shadows thrown. Our fingers
Smell of sulfur, even down at the beach.

Without a moon, the water still finds a color
To hold on to. It folds
And flattens, flattens
     And folds.

Like this and like that,
The between of us disappears.

Untitled Limerick


I cannot live from nine to five
Will not sell my soul to survive For I wish my dear
to live a life so long
And use its length to love you


Spent the night
heads thrown back
laughing at nothing at all
Told you to be careful
of your wine because
I can see your future
And when you spilled it
told me you were
just being polite
sharing with the ground
so it could roll it around
on it’s tongue
and drink with us

And we stayed…

evelyncait said: I have the hardest time finding the courage to share my work? When do you know something is worth sharing? How do you overcome the fear?


If I think about my writing too much, I would never have the courage to post it. I started this site so that, at the end of some period (years? a decade?), I would have some sort of chronicle of my poetry, an intermittent light that froze frames of my mind and emotions at different points in time. Naming my site, “first drafts” lifted much of the burden of fear, as did having a name to write under. 

In the end, the calculus for me is simple: it’s more valuable to me to experience the creative process of writing poetry—and to maybe, occasionally, move and inspire people to do the same—than it is to give too much of a shit about what others may think. 


because the moon wasn’t showing
that’s why in the end i kissed you on the belly
of the hill.

because you gave me redemption, carefully
folded to fit between dry citadel stones,
or vegetables, or sweaty copper faces
on a harbor, watching moored ships sink,
that’s why i pressed your body

(Source: story-dj)

"I am cold and your skin is sizzling but you are selfish beyond words and I am too proud to admit what we both crave."

Pien Pouwels  (via oceanflowerbird)


you taught me many lessons
in terms of how to treat a person.

the way you lured my heart
into the depths of unknown
taught me i should never
set a trap for the unsuspecting.

the way you pulled me
through trial and tribulation
taught me never to pose harm
to other humans around me.

the way you reacted
when i finally grew tired and resisted
taught me of all the qualities
i never wanted to possess.


"how to treat a person" by typical treatment. (5 july 2014)

(Source: typicaltreatment)


I don’t worry
about the distance
between our lips,
or the space
between your hands
and mine.

Because as hard as
it may be,
I love you.

And no amount
of miles,
or lonely nights
could make me
love you any less.


— (via tywins)


I looked in the mirror
this morning
and I did not see myself.

I saw a body
and all of the things
that I did not like
about it.

I saw skin
and hair
and flaws
and imperfection.

I saw a picture
without Photoshop—
a photograph
with no touch-ups.

I saw a figure.
A frame.
A number.
A mass.

When did I begin
this habit
of picking myself

When did I begin
to see an image
instead of a

When did I become
When did I lose
my substance?

When did I reduce myself
to something as small,
and irrelevant
as a simple


Questions About Body Image

By thoseconstellations

(via thoseconstellations)