Love Machine

It's hard to find someone that can be kind and you can trust enough to leave your kids with, and isn't afraid to throw her man up against the wall and lick him from head to toe.

A Photographer's Regret

looking back now, i remember you sleeping peacefully on my white sheets. the shadows of my curtains flowing between your breasts, slowly dying while covering you farther down. your hair settles on the pillows perfectly like old friends' conversations over coffee or beer and my room welcomes you like you've cried in it before. but no matter how much i enjoy watching you sleep after every whispered sin, my coffee tastes awful in my tongue in the morning.

you are a perfect sight. a tell-tale photograph, right there on my bed, in sharp focus and color. a timeless memory not in monochrome. the picture of my desire in its purest form, staring back at me..

dear lord, sometimes i wish i never squeezed that shutter and said, "smile".

because you did have me at hello.

dear you,

i give you four lines after this intro -

only four, for i do not fancy human emotions coated in semantics - as if it would be a breath more sincere if it sounds like it was taken from books of the wise. i give you four lines simply because in these four lines, i can command an army of Shakespeares.

like all other mortal decisions vulnerable to consequences, this was never planned.

beginnings and endings would lose their relevance for i know things would just keep getting better.

accepting a weakness is the greatest weakness of all, yet here i am admitting my own..

i am yours.

dealing with the unfamiliar

let us go back to the time when your imagination was my playground.

let us go back to the time when i made the sun rise and made it shine so perfectly, you would die for a day to end.

let us go back to that moment when you first held my hand and looked at me with that sweet smile, telling me that everything will be okay.

let us go back to that taxi ride where you carefully kissed my cheek and i froze, for a second or two.

let us go back to that night when you said you wanted me more than her and she was just a product of some selfish necessity.

let us go back to making dizzy daydreams because we were too drunk in the afternoon - it was too early to sleep yet too early to say goodbye.

let us go back to that wee hours of the night when things just fell into place that even while we were sitting beside a lonely street, we were celebrating within.

let us go back.

make it familiar.

traffic

it smelled like young perfume, your handkerchief. it was carefully pressed, as usual, and was obviously picked specifically to suit a specific night. i didn't know where we were heading, but i was sure i can hear my heart next to my ears. i said i like surprises. i lied.

i came with my normal clothes, normal i say because yours were not. the moment you asked me out for dinner that afternoon, i had a feeling that something is going on because you, you suck at surprises. you pretend to be calm and all, but i can see your palms sweating three yards away. you say nothing's up, but your voice shakes almost like a blender bewitched. so that night, i knew something's gonna happen.

after a few steps, we reached a table at the far corner of the restaurant. you untied the blindfold and i saw blurry candles and little things that looked like rose petals. wait, they are rose petals. so okay, i think it's time to panic, i told myself. what is this all about?

but you smiled at held my hand, relax.

maybe we skipped the eating part because i can't remember putting anything in my mouth. you handed me a box, a small box of felt. DO NOT OPEN THAT YOU KNOW WHAT THAT IS. but before i knew it, i was looking at something small.. and it was yellow. a small and extremely shiny yellow thing.

will you come to forever with me?

*beep beep*

the black Corolla honked behind me. traffic must have been really bad.

green light.
clutch.
first gear.
gas.
go.

Confessions of a Former Virgin

it was a rainy night. a night where one is supposed to feel the need to find company, and a really good one at that. it was one of those nights where bOoze was my only friend. a night, where all i had was a lousy bottle of beer held by an already-tired body wandering through the wet air. i like my bOdy naked. when i put clothes on, it's with the idea of taking them off. i wear dress held shut by a single snap. a slight tug, an absentminded pull, and any of my dresses fall open, slide from my shoulders to the floor as breezy as autumn leaves falling from a tree. and under the rain, my body was fluid. it was damp.. and it was ready.my phone beeped, a message from the gardener - where are you? my mind was flushed with all the crazy ideas one soaked in the rain can think of. but that night, lunacy got the better of me, i replied a simple i'm on my way.

everything was so familiar. i always thought that i am psychic, that i have these premonitions - i knOw things before they happen. so when i stOod in his front door, i knOw what will happen next..

sometimes i wonder what's the issue of wearing clothes. when that night, i realized that the best things happen when we are without it. the soft light seeping in the gap between the door and the floor added drama to our shadows, active yet graceful. that instance, my name being whispered behind my ear was hallelujah. the garden of Eden, like they say it is, isn't the only paradise after all.he touched me, sometimes to places where i dare not charter. it felt strange, then it felt good. and the feeling after that, is beyond words. i closed my eyes, tried to control my breath so as not to amplify the pOunding of my heart, and the next thing i nOticed was the sheets beneath me, keeping me calm. i thought of magic, of princesses danced by their princes. of rainbows, of angels, and of sweet cookies. my mind began to have a life of its own, and it began to take me to different worlds, one after the other. i was crossing one lifetime after anOther, sometimes living two at the same time. there were no borders, i was travelling through the walls of imagination while my body - mobile and responsive - was held captive by a single soul. it was as if i was a balloon fed with so much air, that when i bursted, i uttered what seemed like what's between a soft scream and a teasing laugh. i was not sure then what it was. all i knOw is that i was catching up with my lungs, taking advantage of whatever air was available. breathing then became more than just an instinct.. it was one with me.

after gathering my thoughts and the little energy that i was left with, i took the courage to let the darkness consume me. i didn't know if it was normal to be shy, but i wasn't ready to let anybody see me that naked. no, not when i am intoxicated and rainwashed. so i shut myself tight, sifted for my keys, and when i was about to leave, a hand grabbed me by the waist. not yet was his command, eyes half closed, lips half smiling. i paused, or froze. but whatever state i was in, not tonight was my deal.

i walked thrOugh the hall, fixing my hair and wiping my face with Starbucks tissue from my pocket. whether my jeans was crumpled or my shirt was unbuttoned, i didn't nOtice. i walked out of his door, took a minute of fresh air, before finally deciding to take that step - from his front door to the pavement, from his world to mine. i lit a cigarette as i walked away from his kingdom, aah, nicotine was always good to wake myself up.

it was 4am, and it was still drizzling. i took a cab to 6th street, mind blank the entire time. halfway to my door, my phone beeped, a message from the gardener - where are you?

but this time, there was no reply.