The beauty of being
A single entity,
Binded by the transparency of
Geographic borders, is that
When I have no words,
He does have to not pick or pry.
I am I.
He is he.
And we are we.
7 weeks.
I want to be
awoken in a sea
of sun streaming through
the linen that is not my own.
And paralyzed by the still
and startling perfection
that is your body cupping mine.
-b
2013
my life is becoming
the chase for motivation.
for inspiration.
i am running against
the hamster wheel.
with no steam
other than to
surrender.
-b
Today I published an ebook!
I published an ebook on Blurb.ca! It’s $2.99, and in the next few weeks it will be on the Apple store.
Retweet and reblog.
withering heights.
It’s funny how
A skeleton that was once so
so strong.
With chastity
and colour,
could wither into
a rack of
desolate,
pervasive,
heartbreak.
And all I can
do is
watch.
-b
Christina.
I crept under your covers
Buried by the Argentina humidity.
I was sticky
And you were cool.
{COOOOOl}
Like the first sip of
Malbec under a 37 degree
Sky.
I was calloused
And you were smooth.
{SMOOOOTH}
Like the splash of an eloquent espresso
Against a tired tongue.
You were a feast of vibrancy,
And I floated and
{SAAAILED}
ever so buoyantly on your coattails.
-b
sacred.
I carry with me all of our yesterday.
And I spill out all of the tomorrow that’s
clawing from the anticipation in my collar bones.
Leaping from the sweat tucked in the backs of my knees.
Sitting fragrantly where I keep our love.
Your love that sits with the delicate
weight around my finger.
Your love that found a home in the
ridges and roads of my skeleton.
In the calcium of white on my nailbed.
Your love that filters through my type O negative
stream of vitality.
Rare and sacred.
-b
I would do anything to be
in this photo again.
A magnet to your side.
I would do anything to have your voice
be not in a speaker.
I would do anything, to drown
in this distance, and be
falling once again with you.
I would do anything to have your flesh
become my flesh, and your eyes mold into my eyes,
and your palms sink into my palms.
And your plans, become my plans.
My future, becoming your future.
I’m drowning in this distance.
Come drink up this distance.
I am aching in this distance.
-b
I’m going to take with me the cotton from your skin.
The one that cloaks me.
I’m going to take with me the electricity from your lips.
The one awakens me.
I’m going to take with me the strength from your arms.
And the love they give me.
I’m going to take with me the purity from your eyes.
The one that caged me.
I’m going to take with me a bottle of your words.
To remember how you fed me.
I’m going to take with me the strings from your heart, and the sand from under your nails from where me met. I’m going to take with me the thunder at the end of your tongue and the story we wrote in the cupboard of your ribcage.
I’m going to take with me your spirit tangled in the spirals of your hair.
I wish I could take you with me.
I wish I could take you with me.
journal rambles
I am living in the cocoon
of a cradle. The tin can
at the end of the string
to your heart.
Time passes to my looming
demise and I stay still
with the sand in a books
telling spine.
I exhale you, I inhale us.
A world tossed down the alley
towards a tough crowd of pins and I watch the spin.
away we go.
-b
untitled romance
Everything clicked into place when I found you.
Like the electricuted muscle of
Your curious lips. saliva and flesh.
Eager breasts.
Everything swam into its place when I found you.
My words free to run, from their nervous cages.
Yours free to roam along the canals of my palms.
(You are my road less traveled)
Everything was illuminated when I found you.
Just like the flashlight of your eyes.
Leaving me naked of every fickle disguise.
(You are my road most desired).
Everything was calm when I found you.
-b
psych love
we spoke that night
in riddles of the
padlocked mind.
with tears for words
and lips for syllables.
Wriggling into the
loopholes, exhaled
in a psychedelic release.
finding love in the shape shifters
of a shared vision.
finding love in the prickle of touch.
-b
happy
To find happiness
in the gentle flick
of a perfect lash.
A fierce brush of
happy lips.
To taste the scent
of happy skin-
to ignite the atoms of
a tongues eager edge.
To feel the swoop of wings
across the unraveling knot
of a happy stomach.
The happiness they
asked, if was because of you.
And I smiled.
Because it is.
-b
Lover, lifer, writer. Journalism student, and Vancouver freelancer. This is my personal blog with a lot of my own poetry and intimate entries. I am continuously inspired by successful, talented and innovative women, and I try to reflect that as much as possible. I hope you enjoy.
"Cento" Copyright © Andrew Brinker 2011.
