The wind adores me, Whistles past my window Searching for a chink, To push back my curtain, To touch my body; I feel you, lover, caressing my face, But I am blind to your true form, Your freshness warms my soul But chills my heart.
A key penetrated the lock, turning in humid darkness, the ultimate masculinity brushed his long hair from his eyes and smiled for a fleeting moment, before the shadow passed and he plunged into me again.
A winter’s day of faded roses the wind’s symphony rattles my window while I wait for the mist to lift before I can see my life more clearly
Nothing tastes sweeter than nothing when the hurt is past, when something is better than anything; so now there is just my guitar And an empty corridor, where I sing my songs to the rafters, but instead of wishing I was someone else I have learned to be myself And accept that I will never…
I travel alone now, searching the world for answers, for stories that have happy endings somewhere on the other side of the world photographs fade until his face is hidden and I am standing alone back home there is still me, packed in my suitcase, too scared to make that move, just waiting in the park…
Pleasure is my fingers on you on me, your chest making me safe, the curve of your shoulder encircling me in a cocoon, until the butterfly of our love has flown and the daylight reveals an ugly moth that makes me hate myself.
It took a long time to realise that love is a trick of the light, that my heart, so full of love, could not be loved the way it needed