Between Horizons, A Sonnet:
In each step, the seeds of love are planted,
In each mile, the roots of desire are bound,
Grown, as trees upon a path, enchanted,
Towards a Prince awaiting to be found.
Bitter Time may sneer at seasons taken
To cut through thorns and cast the storms aside,
With a passion in the soul, unshaken;
Each step met with an ever-greater stride.
The leagues apart may tease affection’s thirst,
And swallow seas between in shameless lust,
With love’s last breath as hungry as the first,
It blows aside the desert sands, as dust.
Imperfect fates may set apart we two,
Yet, perfect is the road that leads to you.
We Need Not Wonder, A Sonnet:
We need not wonder why the stars will cry,
Nor pause to think of why the mountains scream,
Shriek, in pain, go the comets as they fly!
All reaching for an impossible dream.
When all the world, and all the skies above,
Awake each day to find they cannot share,
That precious gift you gave to me, my love,
Each star and rose will be left, in despair.
Yet scornful skies may see that this is done:
Revenge in Time’s assurance such will fade,
But still my smile will outshine ev’ry Sun,
With love for thee that leaves the rest in shade.
And just as night must miss the morning dew,
Let all else weep for the love I share with you.
Fuck It: Part 1, a.k.a. “My mom said I was pretty on the inside.”
If I had the legs of Naomi Smalls,
Or the cheekbones of Troye Sivan
I’m sure I’d find Heaven on earth,
In the shape of a loving man.
I’d not just have sex
because I’m drunk and horny,
I’d make love with someone who’s heartbeat
was the drum
to the rhythmic
entwinement of
our bodies.
Even the sweat that swirled between our chests
Would be a singing river flowing,
almost drowned out in its entirety by each breath we
catch, between our moments of disbelief
that this love
is our love.
His hands, one cradling my head, one holding my thigh –
presenting my knee to touch the sky,
we laugh because it reminds us of that moment Rafiki holds up Simba and all the animals sing words in Zulu that we can’t understand. We keep laughing as we attempt the opening.
“Naaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaants
Ingonyama bagithi Baba”
…except we didn’t sing it as successfully as it’s written down (I had to google it).
What we actually sang was probably closer to Klingon.
He’s 7 inches inside of me. I shouldn’t feel so relaxed
Such is our giggling, he falls
onto me.
The sex stops.
But love – sweet, love – shines on.
All those scenes we’ve grown up with, that we hope for:
When Patrick Swayze plays with the clay,
When Danny tells Sandy all about it,
When they die in the Notebook (sorry for the spoiler),
When Bram reveals himself to Simon on the Ferris Wheel and they kiss in front of the whole school!
All those scenes
All those scenes.
Mean nothing.
Our chuckles are muffled as we embrace and my lips fall
into his neck –
Soft, delicate, totally vulnerable.
I can’t help but kiss it, and he kisses mine.
In moments, our cheeks have brushed together as
we move to look at each other.
Stars are swallowed in his eyes.
We peck, we smooch
His tongue goes in.
I feel his shaft pulsate as it hardens
inside of me.
And the rhythm is returned.
One hand is now toying with my hair and my right ear.
His other hand seems lost for a moment,
but I take hold of it.
Our fingers fall
into each other like our souls, our bodies.
The panting gets louder.
But the smiling, the smirking, the cheeky looks continue to adorn his face
He hits my G spot.
I swallow every morsel of oxygen in the room.
My gasp is a vacuum.
Nothing else exists.
Just him, and I.
Floating.
He knows he’s pleased me.
This pleases him.
I climax.
He climaxes.
I feel him erupt inside of me as I erupt onto his golden skin.
And once more, he falls
onto me.
There we lie.
Just staring
into an abyss
that a lifetime wouldn’t be wasted on.
If I thought I looked good enough,
If I thought I was good enough,
To have such a hunk hold me like that,
To have such a lover love me like that,
Like Naomi Smalls, or Troye Sivan,
If I thought I could be such a man,
But I can’t,
So fuck it.