We say
we will get married
if we get to 40
and still single
For now
we just
fuck passionately
in between our
each semi-committed relationship
Deep down
I realise that
we don’t want to
lose each other
by giving our hearts
to someone else
There is wisdom
in knowing that
we can’t lose
what we don’t have
like our parents’ marriages
倒着走喝啤酒的日子已过去了
但你纯真的傻笑仍旧缠绕耳边
把我带回对爱无惧的初恋年华
时光的隧道真是有那样的魔力
苍发的皱脸禁不住激爱的红晕
隔山海的我们还在为过去喝彩
The days of walking backwards and drinking beer are gone. But your innocent, silly laughter still lingers in my ears, taking me back to my fearless first love. The tunnel of time truly holds such a magical power. My wrinkled face, gray-haired, can’t help but blush with love. Across mountains and seas, we still celebrate the past.
I’ve travelled many winding paths just to find rest in your embrace, soft as a cloud, yet steady and unshakable like a mountain.
Loving you defies logic. It asks for no explanation, no reason. It simply is, as natural and essential as breathing.
God formed me from your rib and brought me to you. So I may always be the dull ache you have. God also created me to be your helper. And I hope that balances out the bittersweetness of life.
Our life together has shaped me into someone better. Because you love me, I’ve learned to love myself. You are the mirror that reflects my truest self.
I love you, more than words can express.
你的拥抱
暖如
冬天的阳光
心里的灰
变成
大海里的蓝
悠然地
扩展到地平线
与海鸥戏耍
至日落
远远的
你站着
长长身影
默默地
我望着
喃喃自语
心灵的对话
越不过的闸
跨不过的域
A collaborative effort of me and Benjamin Grossman.
The bountiful lilac purple wisterias curtain our bedroom window
The humidity of summer and the sound of cicadas wake us
My breasts swell in the cup of your hands
The curve of my body lazily responding to your offering
There is only one line you fit between
Fold me into origami with nothing but your tongue
Our bodies contort into a paper crane
Loving for 1000 years till we turn grey
Our souls take flight through the lilac purple haze into the flush blue eternity.
Magnolias broke out at below zero, blushed, hung on naked branches.
For one long year, half heartedly, I accepted defeat over the quarter you bet wearing a devilish grin.
With satisfaction, you drew an infinity on my wrist with wet finger, marked the beginning of a decade’s promises.
A dozen yellow roses wilted on the teak table where conversations, laughter and passion are still lingering.
The bare magnolia tree, shamefully, stretches out towards the winter sun.
This piece of writing is in response to Denise’s six sentence story prompt word – Dream.
I want to ride a cloud to your bedside
and make it into a silky soft pillow
for your overthinking head to rest on.
I want to sing love songs into your dream
of thousands of sunflowers in Tuscany.
In response, you flicker your sickle moon lashes,
mumbling an affectionate language only we know.
Even the nightingale stops singing and listen.
Touch-me-nots open without shame
waiting to hear the interpretation.
The secret garden comes alive.
The autumn wind combs the sunlight into golden locks
Resting on his heaving chest from a satisfying afternoon nap
Her chestnut eyes crackling in the fire of longing
Such desire, too wild to tame
Flicker of Thoughts 