you and me.

February 16, 2011 § Leave a comment

Right now, I feel so blessed to have you in my life. When I lose my footing, when the walls seem to cave, when everything is a little out of place, you steady me.

Almost effortlessly, you rescue me.

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the sound of keys.

December 5, 2010 § 1 Comment

I love the sound of keys at night.

One full counter-clockwise turn and another swiftly around the other way. Click. The door whispers over the floor. The light from the stairwell slowly peeks into our dark apartment, inches further into the room, and finds my resting face.

He’s home.

The distance closes between us, and my blood surges with excitement. For this, I don’t sleep as deeply anymore. To better hear, to better feel, the soft sounds of his return.

it feels good.

October 27, 2010 § Leave a comment

A paragraph from my journal:

“February 17, 2010:

You make choices every day.

I made a choice. And this morning, the choice held my head in both his hands and kissed me, good morning.”

sing to me

May 14, 2010 § Leave a comment

Nothing
in the world
is usual today.
This is
the first morning.

*

Come quickly—as soon as
these blossoms open,
they fall.
This world exists
as a sheen of dew on flowers.

*

Even though
these pine trees
keep their original color,
everything green
is different in spring.

*

Seeing you is the thread
that ties me to this life—
If that knot
were cut this moment,
I’d have no regret.

*

Sleeplessly
I watch over
the spring night—
but no amount of guarding
is enough to make it stay.

— From Izumi Shikibu’s love poems

on your effect

May 10, 2010 § Leave a comment

I leave every weekend with this unbelievable feeling of weightlessness, and I know it’s because I’ve got our days spent together on my mind. Our moments passed still linger on my lips and hands and in my heart, and I taste everything that is good about love.

You remind me about everything that is good about love.

you induce a state of corn.

March 30, 2010 § 1 Comment

You confuse me.  In a good way.  In the best way possible.

I just don’t know how a person could be so good. How a person could radiate the way you do. How someone could be as kind and giving like you are. How someone could be so considerate when no one asked you to be. How a man could know just where to go next. How a man could be everything that you’re made of.  You just amaze me.

It may have taken a while for you to make me fall, but fall I did. And despite all the chasing, I don’t know how I got you. I don’t know what caught your eye, but I’m thankful I had it.  I don’t know how to keep you in love with me, but I can tell you that I will try. Because you’re everything I want. Because I’ve never known any one quite as right as you.

Because you are perfect.

i love this poem.

March 10, 2010 § 3 Comments

Poema XX by Pablo Neruda

Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche.

Escribir, por ejemplo: “La noche está estrellada,
y tiritan, azules, los astros, a lo lejos.”

El viento de la noche gira en el cielo y canta.

Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche.
Yo la quise, y a veces ella también me quiso.

En las noches como ésta la tuve entre mis brazos.
La besé tantas veces bajo el cielo infinito.

Ella me quiso, a veces yo también la quería.
¡Cómo no haber amado sus grandes ojos fijos!

Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche.
Pensar que no la tengo. Sentir que la he perdido.

Oír la noche inmensa, más inmensa sin ella.
Y el verso cae al alma como al pasto el rocío.

¡Qué importa que mi amor no pudiera guardarla!
La noche está estrellada y ella no está conmigo.

Eso es todo. A lo lejos alguien canta. A lo lejos.
Mi alma no se contenta con haberla perdido.

Como para acercarla mi mirada la busca.
Mi corazón la busca, y ella no está conmigo.

La misma noche que hace blanquear los mismos árboles.
Nosotros, los de entonces, ya no somos los mismos.

Yo no la quiero, es cierto, pero cuánto la quise..
Mi voz buscaba al viento para tocar su oído.

De otro. Será de otro. Como antes de mis besos.
Su voz, su cuerpo claro. Sus ojos infinitos.

Ya no la quiero, es cierto, pero tal vez la quiero.
Es tan corto el amor, y es tan largo el olvido.

Porque en noches como ésta la tuve entre mis brazos,
mi alma no se contenta con haberla perdido. 

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