Bittersweet

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When you returned,
the day felt bright
like new paint
and our forms freshly drawn
by the nimble hands
of God.

Our kisses were sweet
as spring strawberries,
dripping with juice.

We were lovers
once again,
refining and polishing
our art
like careful masters
on the canvas of tragic need
that is the body.

I was a mermaid
drowning
in the sea
of you,
in delicious oblivion.
You tasted
salty like my tears.

In your arms,
agony and ecstasy
seem to become
one and the same.

 

The Glassblower, Part 2

Inner Life of Pua Nani

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The Glassblower is on my mind again. He is playing some kind of game with me, the usual game of love.

Every time I completely give up on him and lose interest, he reappears again.

To continue the story from my last post, The Glassblower Part 1: https://innerworldofpuanani.wordpress.com/2014/02/24/the-glassblower/

A month or so after our initial date, I ran into the Glassblower at a reggae show. He was all over me that night, couldn’t keep his hands off me. The next day he called me and invited me to hang out with him.

He came to my house with his 5 year old son. They wanted to go see a kid’s movie which would have bored me, but it turned out it wasn’t playing, so I suggested that we go for a hike instead.

We went through the entrance to the woods and drove deep into the forest. It was a…

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Your Lips

This week in celebration of Valentine’s Day I am sharing some of my poems offering different perspectives on love. This one speaks to the deep impression love makes on us.

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Your lips are lines of a poem

indelibly written upon these breasts,

upon these hips,

like a tattoo or a scar,

an invisible mark I bear

upon my skin.

And when I decorate

the walls of my mind with stars,

those verses illuminate

like phosphorescence

in the glow of black light

and the lingering language

of your kiss

speaks to me again,

a satisfyingly long

and heartfelt ballad

that rhymes in all the right places

and transports this aching body

beyond words,

into the ecstatic agony

of memory.

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You Kissed Me

In anticipation of Valentine’s Day, I will be sharing some of my poems that offer different perspectives on love. This one shows the lighter side of love, it’s ability to transform us with its glow into into something brighter and more vibrant. Tomorrow’s post: the dark side of love.

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why did my heart bloom
when you kissed me and tasted
like water and sun

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Before I Die

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Before I die, will I think

of making love

to you?

 

When I have swam

through the eternal sea

of life’s consciousness,

and endless memories are bubbling up

from murky depths,

will I run the fingers of my mind

over the faded photograph

of your eyes?

 

Will the scent of your skin

fill the intangible air

of my thoughts?

 

My love, I want to let you go.

 

But I may wish

to feel your lips on mine

one more time.

You Whispered to Me

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You were sitting across from me

in a booth at the Pho place,

your noodles eaten,

your bowl almost empty,

and you leaned back,

tired, sank into the vinyl seat,

and a particular look

came over your eyes.

 

Your sleepy gaze cast a spell on me.

 

You whispered to me then

without words,

in the language of your body,

which I understand

all too well.

 

Your head told me

to run my fingers

through your short spiky hair.

Your smooth cheeks told me

to paint them

with hungry little kisses.

Your lap told me to

climb in.

Your mouth told me

to fill it with my pretty pink nipple.

Your hands told me to abandon myself

to your touch,

to give up everything,

spread myself wide

and receive sensation.

 

I am a good girl, you know.

When you speak to me like this,

I can’t help

but listen.