There is a spell I cannot break

or want to-

Unraveling thoughts weaved

in the fabric of who I am,

an idea transformed into an image

of who you are outside

while I hold my own

of how I see you inside.

There are no answers known

to explain this magical link

of longing across your ‘verse,

this aching feeling so closely tied

to the words and the ink

of your inspiration-

And how it will break

this passing yearn to be deified

by your mind and heart?

You are but a ship sailing away

while I’ll remain stuck

by the waves on this shore,

alone to dream and quietly adore

every moment and gesture,

every word that permeates

all my longing

with a spell I won’t break-


“I will show you a love potion without drug or herb, or any witch’s spell; if you wish to be loved, love.”

― Charles Lindberg


Think of me


Think of me


Think of me for one moment late at night

when his hands under sheets find your wants

to relieve all the heat

and his lips find your skin

while you cry for his love and discrete

with my name briefly sin

for a moment,

if you do think of me-


“You will always be fond of me. I represent to you all the sins you never had the courage to commit.”

― Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray





You sing of love with the silent voice

of emotions contorted in the vocal cords

rising like the tide in full moon, but no words

could describe such skill to make a heart ache,

no science could explain the musical tones

of your voiceless incantation, to awake

from an eternal slumber by your kiss

 blown across the universe and find me

unraveling dreams of your creation-


“Just because something is unspoken doesn’t mean that it disappears.”

― Alice Hoffman, Incantation





You took me into a whirlwind of emotions

lifting me higher and higher

to the mouth of heavens, unkissed

like yours left open to wonder

how a taste may burn me like fire

to the core of my existence-

And to not know of this spell I fell under

by mere words that only exist

in the verse of your creation,

to not know the warm comfort

of your arms, the entire

map of your skin, lost I become

in your world without direction,

without knowing your face,

how young or how old

but deeply seeded, my own soul

of your dreams a reflection-


“It is an absolute human certainty that no one can know his own beauty or perceive a sense of his own worth until it has been reflected back to him in the mirror of another loving, caring human being.”

― John Joseph Powell, The Secret of Staying in Love

If I Could


If I Could


In her eyes, I could find such a warm

in a summer of wishes,

I could swim there for days and adrift

through the years meet my truth,

I could drown in her eyes and her youth

grant me eternity, precious gift

from the gods, like she is-

On her lips, I could easily acquire

on a taste of what heavens

an eternity of bliss

thus condemned to a desire

which I breathe like the air,

to be lost unaware

of the passing of time-

On her body, I could rest all my wants

every night to unravel

on her skin secret riddles

like an ocean her ripples

across wishes and fantasies travel

to the places her body

with my passion defined.

All of what in my dreams I may dare

an eternity of love I could find-


“I cannot let you burn me up, nor can I resist you. No mere human can stand in a fire and not be consumed.”

― A.S. Byatt, Possession

Haciendo Lazos


Haciendo Lazos


Me voy a aguantar la calma

y espero, y espero

porque si me desespero

se me revientan las ganas

de amanecerme en tu cuerpo

con mis brazos enlazados

entre tus piernas revuelto

haciendo lazos del tiempo.


And to wait in desperation

I’ll implode with all my wants

to wake up

entre tus piernas revuelto

for your legs will trap desires


haciendo lazos del tiempo


“Pero cae la hora de la venganza, y te amo.

Cuerpo de piel, de musgo, de leche ávida y firme.

Ah los vasos del pecho! Ah los ojos de ausencia!

Ah las rosas del pubis! Ah tu voz lenta y triste!”

“But the hour of vengeance falls, and I love you.

Body of skin, of moss, of eager and firm milk.

Oh the goblets of the breast! Oh the eyes of absence!

Oh the roses of the pubis! Oh your voice, slow and sad!”

― Pablo Neruda

By the Shore


By the Shore


I will wait by the shore,

when you left all the waves disappeared

and the sand lost its joy and the sun became cold

while the winds pulled your sails far away.

Other lands get to kiss you today

other lives take you far from the hold

of loose dreams that you found in this place

where my love lives marooned

in the wishes I tossed all around

hoping hands such as yours

would caress what it found.

And I’ll wait your return

to feed dreams like you did once before

if a kiss from your lips meant to burn

and a look enamored

then forever I’ll look for your sails

while I wait by the shore-



“I thought of you and how you love this beauty,

And walking up the long beach all alone

I heard the waves breaking in measured thunder

As you and I once heard their monotone.


Around me were the echoing dunes, beyond me

The cold and sparkling silver of the sea —

We two will pass through death and ages lengthen

Before you hear that sound again with me.”

― Sara Teasdale