I Am God

There are times when you learn about someone whose life was just as fucked up as your own (or worse) and there is this strange sense of normalcy that comes over your whole sense of self.  Most of the time, I feel as if I’m living in a different plain from most people, kind of like living with a Star Trek translator widget.  Sometimes it’s like I speak not only a language different from those around me, but like even the sounds that create the voice which makes communication audible is foreign or alien.  There is a desperation that comes over one’s entire being when one senses the chasm between oneself and the rest of the world.  It is not necessarily a bad thing, a little lonely perhaps, not entirely bad.  Mostly, I just figure that the majority of people I encounter are fucked up and haven’t evolved to my level.  Because, of course, there is absolutely nothing wrong with me.  I’m perfectly normal.  It’s those around me that are fucked in the head.  I finally figured out that life is about living and that is all.  There is no grand scheme.  No grandiose sense of responsibility to those around you.  It is just about living.  In the Picture of Dorian Grey, Oscar Wilde, wrote that we are meant to be selfish. He stated that our purpose is to be self indulgent and concentrate on experiencing pleasure.  There is a sense of truism in his theory.  I believe that we are meant to enjoy our lives.  I do not; however, believe that this (or any) enjoyment is meant to be derived at the expense of others.   I believe our goal as human beings is firstly and foremost to be genuinely human.  Genuinely human is an ideology which can only be achieved if one first defines what being genuinely human means.  The first question is what it means to be human.  Man is first an animal, second a mammal, thirdly man is spirit.  Spirit is the collective knowledge which is passed down through genetic memory or social, cultural or familiar integration.

I think our “quest” or purpose is to be truly human.

There is great comfort in the knowing that there is no predestined future.  There is; however, consequences.  A future may be predicted simply by close observation of behavior.  There is within each human the “knowledge” of cause and effect.  There is an enormous amount of information hidden within our genetic make up which already knows everything there is to know.  There is thousands of years (if not millions) ingrained inside each and every one of us at the cellular lever.  That “intuition” we get when confronted with a decision or a situation which makes things “feel” right or give us a “gut” feeling is our collective cellular memory giving us a nudge. 

To be continued...

Lazy Friday Afternoon

Feeling the crunch of the snow
under the weight of my steps
I can smell the promise of Spring
in the clean crispy air of a lazy Friday afternoon. 

A short walk… that is all

with the warmth of her hand in mine
filling my heart with the peace this love brings. 

A pause to look at the Drakes

they mate for life, you know? 
Maybe if I close my eyes
I can let myself hope to dream  
… one more time.

Another pause

this time to try to breathe and soak in this feeling inside. 
Maybe a picture will capture this pleasure
 - a selfish gesture, I know
A few more steps
crossing the bridge over the creek
I get a hug from my dog. 
 
My lover’s eye looking at me through the lens
I look up
I wonder if she can see the hope
maybe today the door will open
to take some of this love from me.

Or maybe next lifetime we’ll be Drakes.

Afterglow

- laying on your side
Gray cigarette smoke gently caressing
a crowning halo around the silhouette of your body
which just minutes before was creating a shadow on my world
deeper, firmer right into the very inside of me. 

I hold my breath while I look at you

Controlling my apprehension,
I slowly reach out and touch your skin on the middle of your back
The warmth of it surprises me as you half turn and smile
Making my heart leap and open with anticipation.

You look at me now, again…
And there goes my heart once more
I know you can hear it
It is in the way your eyes touch me
that I can finally feel this much sought after comfort. -

¡Ah! Sweet pain of hope how it chokes the past right out of my head.

Essence

At my very core, I am a philosopher, a dreamer. I have been trying to make sense of the world around me since my first expedition to mass with my catechism class at the magical age of five. This was the day I learned that god is a man-made creation that evolved out humanity's need to understand the world around in which it lives.

Mother had dressed me in my best little suit, with my black, Patten-leather, shoes, and my whitest knee-high socks. I sat quietly in the pew, listening to Don Jose's sermon about who gets into heaven. He told us about the slim chances a rich man had getting into heaven (which apparently are less than a camel's ability to squeeze through the eye of a needle). As I soaked in all the golden splendor of my little town's gold laden church, and I patiently awaited for "the angel" to come down the aisle asking for my tithing. It was shortly after being humiliated when I learned that "the angel" was not real, that I experienced my first break-down. I was walking out of the chapel, after praying three Hail Mary's for not giving the money to the attendant, when my knees gave out, my vision became blurred, and I felt as if I'd just walked into a vacuum. At that moment, the brunt of awareness overpowered me. "None of this is real," I thought. "This god story doesn't make sense. It lacks logic." The illogical theory of a creator sucked the air out of my lungs. For a few seconds, nothing felt real. I had the strangest sensation that I was made out of air and my body was becoming part of all what touched it. I remember reaching out to touch a wall, convinced that my hand would go through it. I heard my undecipherable whisper echo in the empty church, "there is no god. There is no god." I walked home in a stupor. I don't even remember if my brothers were with me. When I reached our little chalet-home, I walked right into my Father's study, stood in front of him with my hands at my hips, and pronounced, "There is no god!."  He held out his arms. I crawled into his embraced and cried. After he dried my eyes and cheeks, my Father told me that life would be difficult for me, and that I would have to find my own answers. After that Sunday, my "church" became staying home with Father, playing chess and trying to find answers to a question I'd thought of during the week in our family encyclopedia.

I thought about Father and the day I awakened from the theist faery tale quite a bit during the last two years. I wish he were alive to help me answer some of the big questions which have plagued me. I have spent the better part of two years trying to design a definition of essence, so that I can begin to understand my part in the world. I would love to sit across from him, with that old marble chess board and tell him, "I have the early stages of it Father. What do you think?

Essence:  The exponential and cumulative collection of subjective feelings and memories generated by life events experienced by an individual, which make up the moral compass to give a person purpose and meaning, in order to facilitate survival, and defined by the moment in time when the individual reflects upon it; therefore, fluid.

Egg Ju Ju

Forty Dollars can buy me a whole lot of eggs
But it won't
'cause you bought sour cream
instead
to go with your Kosher dream ¿How's that working?-the wishing to be-It's not the same as being…¿you know?

Being makes you wish to be more
Just wishing makes me wanna buy some eggs
but can't
-'cause I ain't got the dough-
Bet you do
tacked onto that boomerang
hovering in the air – waiting to come home
…but this you know…
¿Why else reach out?
-and remind me-
that Forty Dollars can buy me a whole lot of eggs

hmm…

¿maybe I'll make some keys?
instead
-unlock those doors-
and take a peek at my painting on the wall…

¡Damn - wish I could buy me some eggs!

Defining love

People think that love is constricting
But it isn't
Love is freedom
Freedom to soar
To be yourself
And be accepted for who you are
Without excuses
Motives
Or agendas
Love simply is.

People believe that love equates hurt
But it doesn't
Love is goodness
Goodness from within
To help share
And help expose who you are
Without masks
Secrets
Or regrets
Love simply is.

The hope of opening oneself to Love
Is what makes breathing worth the effort
Everyday and every night
How much you can love today
Depends on how much
You are willing to allow love to simply be
Without trying to enslave it
Possess it
Change it
Make it what it is not
Because
Love simply is.

Bright Blue Shadow

The moon casts a blue outline over the back yard
White snow absorbs and reflects brightness back
Casting a bright shadow over the crisp night air

How palpable it all now appears
With eyes wide open
Over what is clear
Even as scrutiny edges and slithers
whispering in my ear
Trying to find notice

With Venus shinning bright through
The gray night sky seems to hold its breath
As aspiration struggles to become evident

Yet

Nothing comes to the surface
No matter how unbreakable a stance
Bending, folding, curving, caressing
The promise of what could be uncovered
If only it were as tangible
As the reality of demise

Post Coital Melancholy

Here comes that old familiar condition
---thick throbbing fog pervasively drowning out sagacity
Bringing forth my true nature
somewhere between pain and pleasure
trapped in the midst of joy and misery
Where neither tears or mirth dwell
A comforting place (really)
Where I'm restless
Uncomfortable without respite
The place which fits me best

--zealously reminiscing the burgeoning of this here and this now…

His lips on mine
A tender kiss turned urgent
¡Ah! A small bite on my lower lip to give me a hint of what's to come
Blouse hastily discarded
bra pushed aside
nipples sucked, slapped, and pinched
Hands rough on my skin
spanking my ass
I take it "like the good bitch" that I am
to remind me that I'm alive and this pain is pleasure
and this wetness between my legs (pouring out me) is cleansing my need
and with it my wanton will
which is what I came seeking
¿tonight from this stranger?

Swollen lips wrap around his cock as he thrusts in deeply
in this dusty, grimy studio floor upon which I kneel
[as if praying to St. Nicholas while seeking a different kind of ecstasy]
And we pretend (for this short time) that we are everything we each want
--to not turn this tryst into something other than what it is:
a release, a relief, a momentary passion needing to be spent
and in a moment of abandon my cunt is pounded (like he cares that it is me he's fucking)
Shocked at how well he moves inside me
(like it matters whose belly bangs against my ass)
surprised when my cunt tightens and contracts squirting all over his lap
¿would it matter whose legs it runs down?
--or that it has never happened liked this before
feeling newborn whilst I suckle, and lick, and pump
--as if his cum going down my throat will put something special inside of me

But we go on pretending that we care
and we talk about injustice
and are outraged at how people forego their good karma over a measly Forty Dollars
¿really, Forty Dollars? (really)
and what is public and is not
¿and what does that mean?
and who has more rights
and who has less
and gentrification
and cultural clashes
and the joo joo
and I try to reassure him that I'm not "that kind of girl"
that I'm not this impulsive
or careless
or precarious
or fearless
or even brave
 (though I wish I were)
but we'll go on pretending that we care until we can't anymore
and we bid adieu
because "what is done is done and it cannot be undone"
a sweet kiss, a hug goodbye, and a "drive safe"

And I'm grateful that no post coital promises are made (truly)
even though I will wait and hope
Just so that I can go on pretending a little longer
that for a short time I mattered outside of myself to someone else
(and that I even cared or wanted to)
… let me go on pretending… just a little bit more
so that I can delay admitting the inevitable
that I must forget the brief moment
when his tortured artist's spirit caressed my melancholic poet's heart
…let me go on go on wondering if he noticed
(and hoping that he did not)
because this is my private torment

-- the place I know so well (and which fits me best).

Knowing

Joyfully crowned with nothing but fulfillment
Time stood still
-as it tends to happen-
at the very instant when your eyes looked into mine
with that smile overflowing with incredulous mischievousness
caressing the depth of the moment
and making every instance thereafter about nothing but the now

And it was at that very first stoppage of time when I knew…
I just knew…
that I was going to love you
and
I knew…
I just knew
- as I always do -
that you were going to break my heart…
and I welcomed the imminent pain
-as I do every time-
for the sake of those wondrous encapsulated fragments of time

I am home.

OLD FRIENDS

    Why did I call her again? Here I am, driving home in the middle of the night-almost morning really, full of questions and doubts again. Three years have passed since the last time I saw her. I still don't comprehend what led me to dial her number. Whatever the reason for my running away three years ago, my feelings had not changed.



    It had taken over an hour to get home last night. Usually, I made the transition in less than twenty-five minutes, but last night the traffic was particularly bad. Somewhere between highway 94 and 35 "our song" started to play on the radio. How long as we had listened to it together. I felt unusually self-punishing, so I forced myself to listed to it, to let the words echo in my head and flood it with memories. Memories of my weakness. Memories of her beautiful black eyes–those bewitching eyes that could penetrate me and melt me.

    When I finally arrived home, I sat by the telephone wondering and debating whether or not I should try to call her. I picked up the receiver, dialed and hung up. I picked it up again, and again hung up and must have hung up at least ten more times. Finally, I dialed and waited. After two rings, I heard that voice. Suddenly it was as if I had entered a time warp, it was three years ago and things where the same.

    "Hello?" greeted her raspy voice.

    I stayed silent, unable to utter a word.

    "Hello? Anyone there?"

    I cleared my throat trying to muster up some words.

    "O.K., this isn't funny!" The phone clicked with her disconnection.

    I stared at the phone for what seemed hours and dialed again.

One ring... two rings... three rings... four rings.

    "Hello?" Her beautiful voice greeted me again

    "Hola... how are you?" I could feel my voice trembling.

    "Liz, is that you? Ay mi Diosa!" I wasn't quite sure if it was happiness or anger I sensed through the phone.

    "God! I've missed you." The words came out of my mouth before I could stop them.

    "Where the cojones have you been for the last three years? I called everyone trying to find you and thought you'd gone back to LA!" Now, I definitely felt anger coming across.

    "I know... Perdoname. I am truly sorry. I... I would like to see you."

    That's all it took. Half an hour later I was sitting on mutual turf: the coffee house at Loring Park. As I waited half hoping she wouldn't show up and silently praying that she would, suddenly I felt her eyes on me. That old familiar feeling of when she came into the room and I hadn't seen her come in. I could 'feel' her close to me I looked up and there she was standing in front of me. Her black eyes burning me with her intensity. Searching my face for some kind of answer. As if looking at me would give her a clue as to why I disappeared. I studied her. She was still as beautiful as I remembered her. That short, cropped cut, black hair. Hair that glistened absorbing the dim light around her. Her olive skin tanned to a golden light mocha from the now diminishing summer. Her full naturally red lips beckoning me. She was the perfect creature that I remembered and longed to hold. I wanted to take her in my arms and never let her go again.

    We spent most of the night talking in "our" coffee house - like old times. Catching up on our lives. We talked about everything but what I knew was nagging at the back of her mind. Why did I stop seeing her? Why did I avoid her? The shock on her face was more than evident, when she learned that I had never left Minneapolis that I was still here. Finally, when we ran out of trivialities, she invited me back to her apartment for a drink. When we got there, she put an old video on. I couldn't even tell you now what the movie was. I couldn't concentrate on anything other than her sitting next to me. I could feel the energy emanating from her. It was intoxicating to have her so close to me.

    Finally, when the movie ended, I faced her as I moved toward her. She made no move to turn away from me. I put my arms around her and held her for as long as she allowed me. While she as still in my arms, I dared asked, "do you want t know why I stopped calling?"

    Silence was my only response.

    "Do you know why I hid from you?" I continued.

    "Sí, but I want you to tell me."

    "I... I got scared. I couldn't handle the magnitude nor ramifications of my feelings for you." She pushed me away.

     "And now you do?" I could feel coldness replacing the warmth I had felt before.

    "I don't know."

    "Then why are you're here? ¿Que quieres?" Anger mingled with the harshness of her words.

    It was a valid question. Why had I come back? I hadn't thought of her for the last three years. That's a lie! I chastised myself. I changed jobs, moved and requested an unlisted phone number, and stopped going to any places where I might run into her. I went as far as excommunicating myself form all and any mutual friends. All these decisions were made to ensure that I would never run into her again. I had to ask myself, "why was I here now? What had changed in me?"

    "No se. All I know is that I missed you. I simply could not stay away any longer Mich."

    "What do you want Liz?" Was that hope I detected?

    "I don't know... Sí se... that is… I know. All I know is that I want you."

    She pulled back and looked into my eyes. I could see myself through her eyes. The doubt, the recriminations, the pain I'd caused. What did I expect? I was surprised she hadn't thrown me out of her apartment by now. I was shocked that she had even agreed to meet me.

    "¿Me quieres? And then what, Liz? Am I going to hear from you again? Are you going to get 'scared' again?" I could feel the anger and the bitterness flashing in her eyes. "Have you any idea how I've felt? How you have made me feel? The pain you caused me? One day you're my best friend, things are great and the next minute, poof, you disappear! What the fuck am I supposed to say now? 'Gee Liz, I'm glad you decided to come back from the dead and want me." She was laughing bitterly now, tears forming in her eyes. I could feel mine not too far behind as I stood there with my hands in my pockets looking every bit as pathetic as I felt.

    "What the fuck do you mean you want me? Just as the words poured out of her beautiful lips, I realized, the awareness of my statement had finally hit home.

    Suddenly terrified, I managed to mumble as I turned to leave, "Mejor me voy. I'm sorry, I made a mistake. It would be best for me to leave."

    "Go ahead why don't you! ¡Vete! Run away. Goddess forbid La Gran Lizbet Coronado might show some emotion. Don't let me or the guilt over the pain you inflicted upon me make you uncomfortable in any way!" She was visibly shaken. Her hands clenched at her sides as if willing herself to become rigid.

    I stood back and looked at her. I knew, in my heart, I deserved whatever ill treatment she could throw at me. I had no right to be in this room. But god how I wanted her. To feel her body next to mine, to kiss those full, red lips and lose myself in her. All I could do was to be as honest with her as I could.

    "I haven't been able to stop thinking about you for the past three years. I don't care what that makes me anymore! Quiero estar contigo. I want to try and be with you. I'm ready to face whatever I have to. So long as you'll give us a chance." With that said, I could no longer control my tears.

    "¿Que?" Am I supposed to be sympathetic now? Be happy that after what you did and a little soul searching you decided you want me?" The resentment in her eyes was penetrating me like a sword. "¡Joder, Lizbet! I haven't seen you, talked to you or heard from you in three years! You didn't even have the decency to tell me goodbye. Ni una llamada. Not even one, single call. I was worried sick over you! I didn't know if you had died in some freak accident were sick or wondering the streets with amnesia or something. I got nothing from you. ¡Nada! You could at least have had the decency to let me know you were still alive. At the very least you could have done that! I deserved better than how you treated me!"

    I looked at her. All I could respond sounded feeble, "I loved you. I think... no... I know, I still love you." The wild beauty her outrage was bring forth hypnotized me. She was breathing hard. I had to concentrate not to stare at her heaving breasts, rising and lowering, bewitching me. Calling me. Tears flooded down my cheeks now. Suddenly, I was sobbing. Whatever control I had managed to maintain washed away in a river of emotions I had denied myself for a lifetime. In that moment as those words escaped my lips, I knew I could no longer hide my true self. I would no longer be able to work myself to death, stay as busy and distracted as humanly possible, live as a hermit without letting anyone close to me, but I knew deep within myself what I was trying to hide. I hadn't hid from Mychele, I had hidden away from myself. I'd denied myself to live, to truly live.

    I must have looked pretty pathetic at this point with my uncontrollable sobbing because her pity for my predicament won over her rage. She came towards me and held me. I shook in her arms crying for what seemed a lifetime. All the while, images of my life were screaming in my head forcing me to see what I had blinded for so long.

    Finally, after I managed to retrieve some composure, I asked without breaking the embrace, "Mychele, do you remember the first time we met?"

    I could feel her smiling face as she gently kissed my head. "Yes, I do. You were sitting in the coffee shop at Loring Park, reading a book on ... the life of... who was it again?" All the anger had left her voice now.

    "Generalissimo Francisco Franco of Spain." I answered.

    She laughed as she retorted, "I remember looking at the title of your book from where I was sitting and trying to decide if you were extremely boring or extremely fascinating."

    "¿Y? To what conclusion did you arrive?"

    "Extremely..." She playfully paused and smiled as she looked deep into my eyes, "...fascinating."

    "I remember seeing you and thinking, 'I want her to talk to me but I hope she doesn't think I'm a lesbian.'"

    That sent her roaring and I joined in the laughter.

    "¿Ves? Those holier-than-thou bible thumpers are right! We do set out to convert those poor innocent straights."

    "You didn't convert me. I ran away remember?" As soon as I said it wished I hadn't. Silence filled the room with tension again.

    It was Mychele who had the strength to cut through the thick fog that was beginning to come between us. "¿Que pasó? Talk to me, Liz. Tell me what went and is going on in that hot head of yours."

    "Bueno, here it goes then: I've known what I am since I couldn't even begin to tell you when. I knew I was denying myself. But the day I saw you, I had to know you. I thought if I talked to someone who was really gay, I'd realize I wasn't."

    She pulled back and we sat on the sofa. She leaned back, crossed her legs under in the familiar yoga style and just looked at me. I knew her mind was racing, but she let me continue without interrupting.

    "Pero, the more I got to know you, the more I realized I was lying to myself. You were so open, so honest, so up front and so giving. You became my best friend. I waited and hoped that you would a make a move on me all the while dreading that you would. More accurately, I was terrified of what my reaction would be if you did. Pero, you never did. And I became more and more exasperated with my dilemma. I simply did not know what to do and was terrified."

    "You were my friend. A straight friend para menos. I wanted you too, you know? I had to practically force myself to not make a move on you. All the while, in the back of my head, I was glad you disappeared. Nada que pensar. The pressure was off. I no longer had to worry about letting it slip one day. I was extremely attracted to you."

    All I could respond to her honesty was a feeble apology, "I'm truly sorry I hurt you, Mych. Perdoname."

    "Why didn't you talk to me about it? If not your feelings for me, then about your feelings about your sexuality. You must have known that I would have been objective that I wouldn't try to influence your decision one way or the other."

    "I had not doubts about how you would have been, Mych. No eras tu. I just wasn't ready to deal with it. All those years of Catholic school, of my family and their bigotry were paralyzing my ability to deal with my sexuality. It was sheer terror to think of what they would have said to me. Their reaction to it. My Madre has had a bad enough time with them. I simply couldn't imagine causing her any more pain."

    We stayed quiet for a long time each lost in our own thoughts. Feelings forming in us but we were unable to verbalize them.

    "Do you remember the last time we spoke? Te acuerdas? I fell down the stairs and you came running down and..."

    "...and I helped you up. I put my arms around your waist and you held onto my shoulders. I remember thinking I wanted to kiss you and thought I sensed the same from. Believe me, Liz, that memory has played over and over in my head for the past three years! I thought you sensed my attraction to you and I had scared you away."

    "God Mych, I wish you'd kissed me. I think back and wished you had... maybe things would have been...different." Her voice trailed off uncomfortably.

    Do you really believe that Liz? ¡Coño! If you disappeared for three years over a 'moment', what would you have done if I'd actually kissed you? You probably would've joined a convent or something!"

    That sent us both on another bout of laughter. But this time it was nervous laughter. We both knew what was really happening and were waiting for each other to make the first move.

    "Finally, I looked at her and leaned closer. "Hell, if I wait for you to make the move, I'll be an old lady." I put my hands behind her head and pulled her toward me. I had her face not even an inch from mine. I could feel her warm breath on my lips. I looked in her eyes and I could see her searching mine for some doubt. But the Gods knew I had none. I pulled her closer and touched my lips to hers. Sometime before our lips touched, she whispered "¿Segura? Are you sure?" But by then it was too late. The movement those words caused simply led her lips to cares mine.

    I was lost! She wrapped her arms around me and we kissed until my breathing became a panting. I pulled back and kissed her eyes, her forehead, her cheeks. I caressed her face with my lips wanting to savor all of her. To treasure this moment forever. I could feel her heart beating against mine. Her body responding to my touch. I kissed her again. This time hard, demanding, hungry for all of her. Her tongue circled mine and licked my lips. I could feel myself giving in. My hands pulled her close, pressed her head to me, caressed her back, squeezed her, grabbing her arms frantically wishing I could touch all of her at once.

    Suddenly, she broke the embrace and stood. She looked down at m and smiled. "Ven." She said as she offered me her hand. I took it and she pulled me up in front of her. Standing so close to each other, I could feel her breath on my forehead. She leaned down and kissed my forehead, gently like mother would. I looked up and she took my lips in hers. She took possession of my soul with that kiss. I savored her proving tongue. She wrapped her arms around me and pulled me closer. I felt my legs weakening and my body tremble with desire.

    "Come with me." She began walking toward the bedroom. I watched her walk away. Her strong back, her lean legs, and confident swagger was seductive. My body responded to her nonverbal call and followed her without even requesting permission to move.

    By the time I walked in her bedroom she was already unbuttoning her shirt. I froze. She stretched her right hand to me. As if under a spell, I walked toward her, my own hand reaching for hers. She squeezed my hand as she pulled me close to her. We looked into each other's eyes, searching for some evidence of hesitation. She smiled and kissed me gently. She stood back and guided my hand to her chest. I could feel my heart pounding, sure it would burst any minute. I felt my body begin to shake uncontrollably. I had fantasized about this moment but never actually thought it would happen. I felt as if I had walked into a dream. "God! If this is a dream, don't ever let me wake up?" She laughed and pinched my hand.

    "No dream, Liz." I didn't realize I had spoken my thoughts out loud. I could feel my face blush with embarrassment.

    She took my face in her hands. "Are you nervous?"

    I nodded and looked at my feet, feeling like a child. "I'm scared of not being able to please you."

    "Don't be afraid, mi amor. Just concentrate on how good it is going to be."

    I looked at my hand still resting on her breast and felt the heat radiating through her shirt. I collected all my nerve and began unbuttoning her shirt. She stood there and let me undress her allowing me to initiate. When her shirt was off, I caressed her breast through her sports bra. I marveled the firmness of her small breasts, feeling them harden under the material. I reached behind her and freed them. I put my hands on her breasts and felt my palms tingle with sensation as her nipples touched the center of my hands. I leaned down and kissed each breast. I suckled her nipples and felt them come alive in my mouth. I felt her gasp and she put one hand on my head as the other caressed my face. I circled her orioles losing myself with pleasure. I reluctantly stopped and began kissing her neck, her chin and back to her lips.

    Our breathing was hard and labored. She pulled my t-shirt off me and frantically struggled to unhook my bra. We laughed at our clumsiness as we battled with our clothes. The button of her jeans ping-ponged around the room as it snapped off. We pulled each others' jeans off in a desperate rush. I fell back and landed on the floor as I tried to pull my jeans over my boots. I made a mental note that my boots should be the first to come off next time! I laughed and rolled on the floor wrestling with my boots. She came down and helped me with my predicament. She kneeled in front of me and pulled off my boots. Then reached over and slowly pulled off my jeans, caressing my legs as she shed off the unwanted material. In one smooth continuous, movement, she glided over me sending tiny electrifying sensations through my skin as her breast traveled over my body, barely touching. I pulled her down and wrapped my legs around her hips hugging her with my entire body, kissing her desperately, forcefully. She responded equally demanding. Her hands squeezing my full breasts, my hands on her back delighting in the softness of her skin under my touch. I pushed her gently so I could feel her breasts again. The tenderness of those mounds! My hand enveloped her small breasts and guided them back to my mouth. She held her breath and pushed my head demanding, with less gentleness. I responded by putting a nipple between my teeth and gently bitting down as I pulled my head back. She pushed her head back and ran her fingers through my long hair, her fingers tightening on my scalp.

    I wanted more control. I pushed her on her back and got on top of her before she even had time to protest. I kissed her and caressed her breasts, spreading her legs with my right knee. We began our sensual dance. Everything fell into place, my body responding to her erotic sway. It felt so natural the way our bodies fit together as if they were meant to connect this way, like finding that last piece of the puzzle and completing the final product. I could feel her wetness through her underpants on my thigh. She pushed her leg against me and I thought I'd die of pleasure.

    "God, I want you." My voice hoarse with desire.

    "I'm right here Liz." She moaned as her eyes smiled up at me glazed with need.

    I could feel myself drowning in her body. The warmth and softness of her skin. I wanted to lose myself in her and not be found. I pulled back and admired her beautiful, strong body.

    "You can do whatever you want. Soy toda tuya. I'm all yours." I caressed her lean neck, her chest, her breasts, her stomach, circled her belly button. I put my hand under her panties and pushed them off and lowered myself to get a better look. I never thought a woman could look this beautiful naked. So different from me but so similar. I ran my finger over her dark hair. Her hips lifted to meet my hand. My fingers began acting on their own. I closed my eyes at the pleasure of feeling her. Her damp lips opened to my touch, welcoming me to their dark secrets. My hand became instantly wet with her. Without thinking I began to caress her, rubbing my fingertips over her inner lips, her opening and they glided in her. The sensation of her was maddening. Her walls tightening and opening as I inserted one finger, then two, then three, exploring her. She lifted her hips and pushed against me. Her eyes half closed. I kissed her tenderly. She pushed her tongue in my mouth in rhythm to her hips. I got the message. It's fascinating how one can communicate without words. My hand automatically responded before I had even finished my thought. I began my own rhythm and she bit my lips and pulled back startled. "Sorry." she whispered. I kissed her again and pulled her lower lip with my teeth. I went back to her breasts. My hand was working frantically now. Her hands tight on the back of my head, then on my breasts, on my shoulders pulling, tightening. Then time stopped I felt her spasm travel from deep within her to my fingers, my hand, my arm, my entire body felt her joy. Without wasting time, I positioned myself between her legs. I could smell her spent desire and it called me to satisfy her again. I lifted her knees and spread her legs. My tongue opened her lips as my fingers had just done. The taste of her intoxicated me. I licked, savoring her nectar, licking her opening trying to drink up her elixir. I heard my name being called out from what seemed miles away. I was in a trance. Her hands gripping my shoulders and my head kept me centered. I could feel her pulling my hair. I began to explore other mysteries. I took her pearl in my mouth and marveled at how it felt between my lips and the tip of my tongue to the rest of my body. I felt her tremble as I tickled it. I began to circle it, teasing it.

    Please... Liz... Ay Diosa mia! Liz... I can't" I smiled as I heard her plea. My tongue and lips betrayed my attempts to keep her climax at bay. She pushed up and took my hand. Her body tensed and I felt her explosion. Her legs tightened around my head and I thought I'd suffocate with the pleasure of it all. Her energy flowing into me pulling me into her ecstasy maddened me. My body shook with hers and we became one, floating in this newly found dimension. I crawled into her arms over her and felt my hot tears run down my cheeks. How could I have denied myself this ecstasy for so long? The stupidity and futility of it. The senseless wasted time. How could I have allowed my fears to overpower my better judgement? She held me and let me cry, kissing my tears away and whispering sweet words into my mouth.

    When I could tell by her even breathing that she had fallen asleep, as she lay in my arms, an uncontrollable panic took over my sense of being. I don't know what came over me next. I got up slowly, quietly dressed and walked out the door. I had to leave.



 

    So, here I am driving home. Thinking of her. My feelings for her have definitely not changed. But I can't give myself to her. I don't want her to have me. I am afraid of losing myself. I don't want to think what she will think of me when she awakes to find me gone. I just needed to get through this. I just had to get her out of my system and by making love to her I did. One can't go back in time, anyway. The past is gone and becomes part of history. The time to form any type of relationship with her was three years ago. But I chickened out and ran.

    Wait a minute! I ran!

    I slammed on the brakes causing a couple of cars behind me to almost swerve off the road. It dawned on me. I'm running away, again! I love her and I'm running away, again. Who cares if time has gone by? The most important factor here is our feelings for each other. So what is the matter? I'm taking the easy way out.

    I reached her apartment door. I thank all the Gods because she's forgotten to lock it. I go in as quietly as I can. I take off my clothes and crawl back in bed with her. She immediately wraps herself around me and I fall asleep.

    We sleep soundly in each other's arms. Our bodies molding into each other fitting perfectly. I awake in a daze. Mychele's body is warm in my arms, her legs entangled with mine. I feel safe and unusually calm. As if I'd done this a million times before. As if waking up in her arms is a natural, everyday occurrence. Her breath on my neck soothes me and comforts me. This feels so natural and wonderfully secure. I open my eyes and scan the room, enjoying the first signs of daylight flowing through the windows. The light breeze of Spring brings a magical feeling into the room. I can hear the birds calling their mates outside. How I love Spring. But this particular Spring morning I feel invigorated.

    Mychele stirs and I hold her closer to me, kissing her forehead. She opens her eyes and smiles as she shocks me, "I'm glad you came back last night."

    "You knew I'd left?" I ask in a panic.

    "I felt you leave. I laid here for while after I got up to unlock the door."

    "How did you know I'd come back?" I ask incredulously.

    Her expression becomes serious as she answers, "I didn't. But I hoped you would. I'm glad you did."

    I am at a loss for words. As she presses herself closer to me and whispers in my ear, "How do you feel?"

    What a question. How can I possibly verbalize the joy and happiness flowing through my veins? All the while panic and fear intertwines themselves with this new found glee. I know that somehow I must learn to deal with this frantic sensations and how to overcome them. The only way I can respond to her is by kissing her.

    She returns to me and I feel her passion reawaken. "I believe I owe you a little reciprocation, querida." That is all she says as she teasingly begins to spread my legs with her knee. I close my eyes and I feel her hand caress my breasts as she nibbles my neck and our love dance begins once again.

 

THE END



Sometimes

I just looked overAnd there you are standing in the kitchen
With your hands on your hips
Like the jolly green giant, I think
And I laugh inside.
Looking at your one sided smile
With your head down
And your eyes looking
At me with the mischievous
glance you give me sometimes
Which makes me blush
For no reason I can fathom

I look up and see you
Like just now happened
And my heart jumps
Filling me with amazement
that you love me.

Sometimes,
When I look at you
It's as if I'm seeing you for the first time
And I find myself at a loss for words
To describe this feeling inside?

Esperanza

¿…y entonces pa' que sirve la esperanza?
Para nada si no se aguanta la espera agotada
¡Ay! ¡Esperanza, Esperanza!
¿Hasta cuando hago vela?
Aquí plantada aun mí llaga
escuchando el susurro de su respiración
Áspera y seca mientras yo espero un poco de su aliento.

¡Ay! ¡Esperanza, Esperanza!

Aquí sigo esperando - como siempre
Contando lo latidos de su corazón.
Esperando la esperanza
Pues ya ni importa si llega ya acabada.

Reaching to touch the sky

We float on a cloud

Carried away by the fury of the moment

Cradling our hopes and dreams

So that maybe one day

We will know

…Just know

What this light is

Guiding the drive

to want to reach up and touch the sky

And maybe

…Just maybe

At that moment

We will know

¿the truth inside?

Breathe

I climbed the mountain and thought I had arrived
How humbling to realize I had only just begun

Each step taken is just a simple step
Each halt is just a pause in time

And so, I breathe in and try to exhale
Slow at first to expel out the dismay

I dust myself and try to find my place
I take a rest
then I run to gather all my strength
  
…And I fly

I fly with all my might
and I cry, amazed at my own valor
laughing, feeling overjoyed
then along comes a wind that knocks me to the ground

And I'm humbled to realize I have only just begun
and each step taken is just a simple step
and so I breathe in and try to exhale…

Untitled

I stand outside and pull out my cigarette.
I take a deep breathe before I light up
- and then, I do…
Pausing just a bit to question myself
Do I really want to do this once more?
Like every other time, I do.
I inhale deeply, letting the smoke go all the way inside my lungs…
I forgive myself one more time… again…
like I will the next time, I know.

I look up feeling the misty cool air hit my face and then I see her:
my friend my confidant… my moon.
She does not judge me, she just knows.
She is strong, fighting the cloudy December sky
heavy and wet, full of a promised snow.
But I can see her, my bright moon, looking at me,
without assumptions, resentments or ill will.
She knows me intimately.
She knows me well, my moon.
even my self-deceptions, my dreams and my hopes.
Tonight, I ask her to show me the truth

While exhaling,
I get lost in the effort of deciphering where the smoke ends
and my visible breath begins
I lose sight of my purpose but
her brightness pushes past the fog
and she summons my will again.

I see her as she stares, fighting thru the haze
a grayish bronze glow, almost golden at times.
I look at her searching for answers buried inside of me.
Answers that won't, or can't, or just simply don't come.
A cloud passes and blocks it from my sight
"Tell me the truth." I murmur under my breath. 

I lead the cigarette back up to my lips.
No answers tonight;
just hopeful questions to ponder upon
as I throw my cigarette away, once more.

Becoming a Butterfly

"Wait for me..." I ask.
"Be patient..." I beg,
for the layers are being shed
and the core is almost discernible.

I am becoming a butterfly...

"Look, at me closer," I say
I am sprouting wings!

Not to fly away from you.
but so that I can fly to you.

ALL I NEED

The heaviness covers everything
Like a warm, thick blanket
while I struggle to lift it
Even as my muscles ache with the effort
But suddenly
I can see the tear
so I focus on the stream of light
Calling me like a beacon

…and I lay my head on her shoulder
Counting the beats of her heart
echoing through her breast
making the world melt
with the warmth of her kiss on my forehead
As her embrace tightens around me
I know that she will keep the demons at bay… tonight

Comforted by the knowing
that no words are needed at this moment
just the sound of her breathing
to guide my own
because sometimes that's all I need to go on.

And then I focus on the stream of light
While I count the beats of my heart
Trying to keep up.

I am Woman

I am emancipated
Terrified
Petrified
But certain
Looking ahead
Not behind
Not weighed down
Uplifted instead
Filled with hope
Ambition
And
Love
For me
Myself
And
I

I am unrestricted
Elated
Delighted
I am flying
Through the clear blue skies
Feeling the wind
Caress my body
Enfolding my breasts
Strengthening my wings
Pushing me
Forward
Onward
Higher
I am in me
With me
And
For me
Oh! What a wonderful place to be

I am liberated
Overthrown
Dethroned
Unobstructed
Un-constricted
Freed from apprehension
Doubt
And
Despair
Freed
from responsibility
Of saving a world
Not mine to mend
I am but one more
Mere human
Flawed
Weak
And strong
Beautiful
And tender
In my skin
And in my bones
Sensitive to the core
Powerful to behold.

I am woman
Watch me glow
Stand aside
Stand in awe
I have climbed
The mountain
Reached the top
battled the devil
And watched him run
I am here
I am now
See me
Touch me
Embrace me
Or move away
I have no time
To waste
On fears
And fake gold
Pull out your heart
And Let it shine
Let it be seen
Let it not
Or
Put it back and
get on your way.

¿Our Moment in Time?

It can be captured by the spirit of that instant
in which a gleam in the eye confides the joy
at the precise second a gentle smile is freely given
under the warmth of a midsummer's sun. 

It is draped by a full moon glowing
with its awaking beacon brightening the darkness
bathing our humbled faces at the exact instance
through which only the appreciation of its beauty can pass.

¡Alas!  Our moment in time allows the soul to breathe in wonderment
while having the opportunity to share a mischievous grin
filled with the awareness of our diminutive supremacy
and the secret knowledge of our enchantment inside.

 

- Vinnie Valero

Changeling

The changeling will not kill me.I know this
But yet it tries to maim
And seeks to engulf
And control me.
 
I run
I fly
I hide from it
Yet, it stays here
Waiting in the shadows
quietly trying to creep in
When it thinks I won't notice.

It is sneaky this changeling is.
It likes to camouflage itself.
It likes to fool me
It likes me to think it is something else
But I know its true nature
I can see through its disguises,
Eventually.
 
It is the root of all evils
This changeling is.
It is strong and it is relentless.
As much as I try to ignore it
No matter how much I try to crush it
Regardless of how I try to make it vanish
It becomes stronger
and louder its presence screams.
 
I talk to it
"I see you creature."
I say
"I know you changeling."
I confront
"this monster that you are,
you are created by me."
I challenge it
"you are part of me,
I know you by your real name."
This is how our battles go
But it always returns
Because it never really
Leaves, you see.
 
In order for it to leave
I must welcome it.
For it to be powerless
I must give it might.
For it to cease to exist
I must embrace it
And let it in.
To battle this enemy
One must know it intimately
And changeling is tricky
And holds back
So that I can only know it
so much at a time.
Just when I think I know it
It changes its form
and becomes something new
And our dance begins,
Once more.
 
But I keep challenging it
Because that is what must be done.
And even though with each battle
Changeling becomes stronger
And smarter
And more sophisticated in its strategy
The secret here is
That so do I.

The Light

She is dazzling -- the Light
bright like a siren.
Invitingly familiar
Intoxicatingly alluring
She calls me to touch her
breathe her in
bathe in her deceptive warmth
to let her engulf me
drown in her.
pulling me forward
… towards her

¡Oh and she stings and scolds!

I know this…
but onward I must go
Until she consumes me

…and makes me forget that the darkness suits me best.
  

Kicking the Ice

I kick the ice chunk while walking on the 3rd street Bridge. I do this while not ignoring the fact that I am probably too old for such undertakings. "What do they think of me?" I wonder as I look up from my next retrieval challenge. I've gotten my precious ice formation stuck in between a snow pile and the edge of the bridge itself. The object of my projection is dangerously close to falling into the Mississippi, so I need to concentrate. I slowly slide my foot over my ice chunk and coerce it out of its position. I resume my kicking/walking as well as my thought process. Cars whisk by me and I realize that I really haven't given them much thought before (other than to recognize their substandard driving abilities, of course). Today is different. For a moment, feeling a little narcissistic, I suddenly become aware of their existence only as it relates to me; or more accurately their opinion of me. Specifically, what they would theorize about an almost forty year old woman playing kicking an ice chunk across the bridge. This thought process does not interrupt my goal of keeping my companion with me until I reach my car. I notice that people who walk past me appear annoyed. I hear a sigh to my left so I stop to let the good man walk by without being an obstruction and to try to alleviate his fear of being kicked accidentally. I give him a few paces before I proceed with my punting. I do so gently as to not cause injury. I figure that he is most be concerned for his safety because he cautiously looks behind him a few times. I smile in vain to try to reassure him that I have no ill intent. This doesn't seem to appease him. He continues to look from me to the ice chunk back to me. His disapproval is obvious by the frown on his brow and his disappearing, thin lips. He speeds up. I say, "Screw you" under my breath and continue onward determined in my mission. I pause and look at the Mississippi gently racing southward. It is fascinating to watch this river. It is always different, yet every morning and every night it appears as if is the same. The same two trees have been lodged together in one of the mini-dams refusing to move for almost three months. Sometimes some debris gets caught in between the branches, but for the most part, those two trees are always there as if simply to defy the strong currents. "Why don't they let go?" I wonder. "What keeps them affixed to the same place interlocked together day in and day out?" You'd think the currents would be strong enough to push them and dislodge them. I see that today a couple of birds are resting on the highest branches. I think on how brave they are to stand there in such a precarious position. I believe animals can read minds so I congratulate their valor.

It's time to move on.

I locate my intimate and give it a good kick. Oops. I hit it too hard and it lost a piece of itself when it made contact with the side of the wall. I make a mental note to be gentler. This time I gently push it instead of punting. I proceed the rest of the way guiding it across with me. I laugh each time I recover it from a near miss and sure demise. No matter how hard I try to be gentle, it is continually loosing integrity. By the time I reach the end of the bridge, it is one-third its original size. My car is only a block away now. I'm a little saddened. I will have to leave what is left of my new friend to face the elements. I'm amazed at the strength and perseverance of my little ice buddy. I ponder its ability to survive the night should I decide to leave it in a place where I could find it in the morning. I ignore the strange looks I'm getting from passers by as I push the remaining iced mass across the busy intersection. I can see in the faces of the waiting drivers that they are not entirely keen on the idea of waiting for me whilst I slow down in the middle of rush hour traffic for the sole purpose of playing kick the ice chunk. Little they know of the importance of my endeavor. It might look like a waste of time to you Miss Hurry-up-you-loser-don't-you-have-anything-better-to-do-driver-lady, but to me, keeping this little piece of frozen road wash going until I get to my car is significant. What else is there to do between here and there other than keep the chunk alive and as intact as I can manage it? I think nothing else matters right now.

We finally arrive. What is left of my little ice chunk and I make it to the parking lot at St. Anthony Main. I guide it to my car. I pick a direction in the almost empty lot, aim and kick my faithful friend as hard as I can. Wow! It almost flies through the white, slick pavement, little pieces of ice falling off intermittently. It makes it all the way across to the edge of the lot and manages to land in a snow bank. "Well, at least one of us is in one piece." I say out loud, as I get in the car. "Nope, nothing else matters right now."

Venus Resting

…on a salmon colored cloud-embraced by a robin's egg sky-
Cradling secrets of wistful hopes and dreams.
just today…
Venus rests

Whilst the full moon glow
caresses the old, curly willow branches
and strong fingers gently trace circles on bare legs
quivering with the afterglow
Of uninhibited passion
-free of machinations and purpose-
Venus, she looks down and smiles

Transforming yesterday into a thin mist
-and tomorrow into not even a glimmer of anticipation-
And the world disappears
…fades away into a distant memory
under the same heavens
where just moments before
misguided yearnings
-lingered.

Where god Lives

...And there is god past the University Avenue sign.
There, in the far distance, breaking through the warm morning fog
cutting a white line at the edge of the world
-- giving light to the egret with the broken wing.

Will you listen to that lonely loon calling by the side of the dock?
Yes, I would much rather have faith and believe
It is a song of yearning hope that wakes me
-- not a mournful cry that I hear in my heart at all. 

There is god in the sound of the waves
coming to witness the laws of nature unfold
In the warmth of the sun penetrating my thin skin
while we ponder the twelve point measure and the meaning of time
-- that being the measure of the distance between here and there and then, of course.

…Just look at god now,
deep in the furrow of the brow of a young boy
peeking into the greatest treasure ever found
and stored in a handy sandwich bag:
a yellow maple leaf, three colorful stones, the most perfect and bestest feather ever
-- and the memory of a seashell thrown upon a lake shore by a man of long ago.
 ¡Ah! ¿Will you look at god now?
swimming in a full moon river on a steel blue lake
just for me...
for consolation

Yes, I can breathe in god now in the scent of this late summer night air
soaked with the promise of finality and filling me with anticipation
in the silence between heartbeats comforting my spirit
-- as I walk away from what I must with the rising of the next sun.

Blame the Cow

So we ponder
              Holler                
                             …and we plunder


We move backward
              Sideways
                             … and maybe by accident creep forward 

We ignore today
              Forget yesterday
                             …and roll the dice for tomorrow

In the meantime
We stand baffled
…and stare at the spilt milk

After we kicked the table
                                                         …broke the glass                    

So we can blame the cow for our weak bones.