It is better than he could have
Dreamed, being loved by me
He wakes up in sweat-soaked sheets
Aching to the teeth
The softest imprint
In his mind of my body
Emerging from the lake, covered in
Lilies, dripping with promise
He convulses in agony
Losing sleep, begging for an answer
What does it mean?
3AM Thoughts // AKA “Stronger than desire but weaker than poison.”
I give to you parts
Of me others were begging
For, hands over knees
3AM Thoughts // AKA “Haiku 32.”
At bottom, you see, you are the only thing that counts for me,
for you are everything – beauty, love, poetry … in a word, life.
// Guillaume Apollinaire, from a letter to Madeleine Pagès
the same girl from the
each morning with peach
pit lips wrapping around
a double espresso
she is miles away yet very
nearly here as she
smiles at the dog near her knee
is this as good as it gets, watching her
from a distance, drinking her in as
the wintery wind lifts her
velvet skirt like a lover and
she laughs again
3AM Thoughts // AKA “My Skin Aches to Touch You.”
Yes, I was wholly and entirely happy. If you could have uncored me, you would have seen every nerve running fire – intense, but calm.
// Virginia Woolf
Happy. Standing in our kitchen
Wearing nothing but
Cotton socks with coffee burning
My lips. Laughing with you.
That’s it. That’s all I need.
3AM Thoughts // AKA “As Simple & Easy As You Make It.”
I jumped a plane to stay with him for
Sixteen days, just to wet my lips with
The way he tastes, the friendly reminder of
Skin on skin and better yet, the softest little dip in my spine
He always finds with his hips
Never asking for much aside from my
Complete submission, open arms, mouth divine
Putting bite marks on all I aspire to be
Mine; spinning sweet lullabies as cobwebs line the
Door, masking the tenderness of all that remains
The small patch of grass in my soul I’ve been saving for
Fleeting moments like this, roguish palms
Fingers lined with grease, in love with the way his tattoos
Clash when he lays in the sheets, he makes resistance impossible
When he implores me not to leave
3AM Thoughts // AKA “Desire is not rational, but neither is love.”
“Say something I will always remember,” he asked, thinking that in this way he might solve the elusive nature of her talk. She meditated silently and then gracefully made five gestures. She touched her forehead, her lips, her breasts, the center of her throat, then placed her hand under her elbow and held it there and said: “Remember this.”
Collages // Anaïs Nin
Nothing like love to put blood back in the language.
// Margaret Atwood
She strikes me as the kind of
Woman who would laugh on the pyre as
They light it on fire; or laugh as
She does the lighting.
In her I see vast monstrosity coupled with
Insatiable desire, a terrifying combination.
She demands nothing from me except for
Utter supplication, I feed her whims on bended knees –
Kiss her feet, she returns the favour by
Putting her body, that body, in my hands.
There is venom deep within her covered by laughter
I marvel at how something so
Dangerous can taste so sweet, nature’s
Greatest deceit. My vengeful Medusa
Drawing me in with words full of promise only
To turn on me as I sleep.
3AM Thoughts // AKA “I have woken up as three different women this week.”