Andrea Gibson, You Better Be Lightning

How devoted the sea is to the moon

Across the vastness, I feel the pull, A force unseen but ever-present, Binding my spirit to yours, As the sea yields to the moon’s silent command. Stars drift in their eternal waltz, Planets spin in celestial harmony, Yet my heart finds its orbit Around the essence of you. No barriers hold the tide of my longing, No distance dilutes the depth of my yearning. In dreams, we meet where time dissolves, Two souls entwined, beyond the reach of moments. You are the constant, as the moon, In a universe of endless flux. I am the wave, relentless, drawn To the shore where you stand waiting.

Vasily Semyonovich Sadovnikov, The Winter Garden in the Yusupov Palace in St. Petersburg, c. 1852, watercolor.

HOUSE OF THE DRAGON (2022–) Season 2, Episode 7, “The Red Sowing”

hand on the divine your curves, like Italian marble body as a work of art

not just a woman but a goddess and i'm down on my knees

watermelon lingering on your tongue i lap it up in waves

-Cleo on Hello Poetry

(https://hellopoetry.com/poem/4437773/body-as-a-work-of-art/)

Not to sound too kinky, but can we hug until I feel okay again?

Cher by Douglas Kirkland, 1975

6/27/24

1 month

An inexplicable tightness grips my chest,

when the thought of losing you intrudes,

a shadow darkening the edges of my mind,

turning peace into a turbulent storm.

I’ll be what you desire, whatever form,

a steadfast friend, a silent companion,

confidant, my presence offered freely, without claim.

Content to be a part of your existence,

to share your world, even from a distance.

Each moment with you is a cherished gift,

a fragile thread that binds my heart to yours,

for losing you again would be an endless night,

a void too vast for words to ever fill.

So I remain, whatever you need me to be,

grateful just to be a part of your world.

I think she waited just for us

6/25/24 10:30am

Mid-morning stretches, the world waking,

but the moon waits, patient,

a silver sentinel in the sky.

You tell me you see her too.

Miles dissolve in that moment,

as we sit apart yet together,

eyes lifted, hearts bound

by the moon’s gentle persistence.

She is beautiful, you say,

and in that beauty, we find a connection.

No words needed, just the understanding

that for now, the moon is ours.

June 7, 1924 Journals of Anais Nin 1923-1927 [volume 3]

tell me you’ve been thinking of me