CircumstantialHe doesn't like it when I wear a bra, and I don't like it when he wears a shirt. Our interest in each other is only circumstantial. I need to see his chest hair, and he needs to see my breasts move.We always meet behind closed doors. We don't exchange any pleasantries until we are ready. The door closes and we stand a few paces apart. In silence we take off the layers. We have two hands between us when we embrace; my fingers buried in his fur, his palm cupping my breast.A minute ago you couldn't have guessed the compassion, and now we are lovers. Without our layers we belong together.If we end up in the midst of a crowd, he silently offers me his left pinkie, and I hook my right one into it. We don't face each other then. The objects of our interest are hiding beneath clothes and without desire we don't need to look.He refuses to lose me as he matches his pace to mine. If he senses indifference loosening my pinkie around his, he reminds me that it won't be long till we reach privac
She is quick.I have a quick mother. Most of her movements are hurried. When she walks it is hard to keep up with her. She might even break into a run without a reason.I am aware this is because of her long to-do lists and her insistence on being productive and efficient every single day. I am aware she is obsessed with multitasking and time management. I am aware how relaxed and comfortable her movements become if she decides she is going to rest, but if she has already picked up speed you either have to keep up with her or don't get in the way. If you are not careful you can be body-slammed by her in the kitchen after she places the freshly baked bread in a towel and turns around to check the boiling vegetables and then does another turn to check the fish in the oven. If she runs into you she usually laughs and you might even get a hug out of it, but if she is feeling too cramped up with time you'll face her frustration:"Get out of the way if you are not going to help!"Watching her is am
A Hound Sniffing Her Way Back Home:A night in your armsafter a day of freedomnew places possess…My body inches towards you;my nose eager for your skin.I follow your mouth.I follow your breath.I fall asleep…2011-11-14© melekelif
That Summer NightShe called to ask him of her fresh-out-of-the-oven mistakes. He had always been keen to tell her of her flaws. It was facing him she built her armor. It was facing him she accepted her bowel movements. She called to ask him. She called to bargain with him:“I’m a mess.You need to fix this.”She was about to say:“You are still holding on to my pieces.Let them go. Be kind, rewind.Put me back, –not together-put me back, where you found me,that damn summer night.”He started speaking before she could make another sound. But first, she heard him sigh:“I’ve dreamt you with someone else last night. I’ve dreamt you with someone else so many nights; I should be used to it. We’re through and you are free. So tell me, why do I feel like the day you fled torn and bloody, broken and erased? I’ve dreamt you with someone else, yet my hands ache like the day I ripped off your wings and danced. Is it because you hat
If You Were a SecretIf you were a secret I had to keep,I could have kept you forever.Secrets and scars and silent screams,I am their overprotective mother.2012-05-08© melekelif
Your fault, not mine.You knewhow to lovesilentlyon your own;why didn't youjustscream meback home.It is your fault that I left;tell me where you are.I went miles without you,loved and ached and cried.It is youthat I want.I shall be born with youif you won't have us rot.2011-09-07© melekelif
not that or then.
this, now;not that or then.me, here;not them or there.these drums are mine;their perfectly stretched headswill claim your bastard beats.(begone before you are begottenagain.)2012-10-24© melekelif