July 26, 2013 § 9 Comments

When I think about the
way your fingertips touch mine
And leave spots like an
autumn manicure in a daydream haze
I remember seasons of change,
seasons that came and went
Before the day the wind swept in
before the day you swept in.

I hope you stay, with fingers
crossed; entangled in yours. And
always caress these fingertips.

Untitled (vii).

June 9, 2013 § 3 Comments

I feel your heart
pounding against my back.

In my ear
i hear your breath.

Your arms around
me are a safety net.

The night is
long and bright.

The world’s spinning
but we dont mind.


dance with his father.

April 25, 2013 § 12 Comments

As a kid he was
naive and innocent
and nerdy and alone.
He chose his own company
o’er everyone else.
The books, the music,
the magazines, the cartoons;
amused him.

And then he grew up.

He now only remembers his
fathers gentle laughter
and, the way he carried
him in his arms.
He remembers how the
sunshine poured lazy rays
upon untainted walls.
And how they watched
The Lion King together
mouthing dialogues.

But mostly he remembers
how he danced with his father.

Dance with my father


April 3, 2013 § 28 Comments

Switch off that laptop
and drop that phone.
Lets not text each other
anymore. Lets not whatsapp.
Or Facebook.Touch me. I mean,
just touch me. I don’t mean
caressing or arousing.
Just touch.

I want to mess your hair and
stroke your face. I want to run my
fingers onto that beautiful jaw line.
And feel your Adam’s apple with
my thumb.

Lets turn off the city lights and
let the dark be really dark, not
half-dark. Lets just dissolve into
each other. Not doing it, yet
connecting. At a different level.
And i don’t mean no foreplay. Just

Lets do all of that, if that’s
how we connect.

Whoever you are.

March 17, 2013 § 8 Comments

Done with our work for the day,
we go out. To a fancy restaurant. You,
me and our friends. Where a music
channel shows tacky videos of
shallow singers. We laugh at ’em.

We talk about work, music and
life: the regular stuff. Bitch about
the ones who didn’t turn up.
What’s the plan?‘, you ask.
I want to curl up on a couch
and eat hot chocolate‘, i reply.

We go to this another lounge
that’s newly opened. Aesthetic, we’ve
heard. All country-style, done with a
fireplace. I kick my pumps and sit
on the couch with folded legs, eating my
hot chocolate. This one plays
an old U2 concert.

All i want is you‘, Bono sings. While
i stare into your eyes. Deeply. You wink.
Next he sings ‘With or without you‘,
as he chooses a girl with straight hair,
and a black vest. She lies down on the
stage with him, singing.

And it’s a magical night. You touch
my fingers, put your arm around my
waist. And sing along.
I can’t live with or without you.’

It’s exactly how I’d imagined I’d
be loved. As i sit crawled up in
your arms.

Whoever you are.


Where Am I?

You are currently browsing entries tagged with muse at Rants..

%d bloggers like this: