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ToT 1d
Where do I start 🤔
Your love is undeniable
Your love is contagious
Your love is the epitome of love
It’s never not too much
Your love is versatile
From your love lips
Your love eyes
To your love touch
It’s your love that I love so ******* much
It feels so good to be loved by you
Sometimes I don’t feel like I deserve it all
But then, then there’s this reassurance vibe that you give
Boss up like “shiiid, I do deserve it! She’s loving again and I’m the WOMAN she’s giving it to!” “Take that **** ToT! It’s all for you!”
Loving by you makes me jealous
In a sense as why the **** didn’t this happen sooner
But we both know, everything happens for a reason
I’m gonna fight until I can’t fight anymore before I let your love just be for a season
I love the way you love
Written: 05/19/23
I do not know if it’s all illusion—
but I adore when someone lies awake, eyes wide with dreams,
tracing blades of grass, searching for me
among flocks of white herons.

I adore how someone falls in love with me
while watching a deer—hair spilled wild, resting
in pale blue light, waiting, almost breathless,
for the hour of longing to end.

And I adore it more
when they listen for dew to learn if I have arrived;
cradling a young hare, wondering if I, too, am restless;
holding a white flower, smiling softly,
gazing at swans and thinking of me.

When rain falls they run outside
just to feel me near.
I love it—
after the long day fades, or in the burnt stillness of afternoon,
when they return, weary as a dove, and look for me—
yes, I love it.

May they remain like rainfall—
gentle, everlasting, felt upon skin and soul.
Across her sweatshirt, ninety-nine names
stitched like constellations —a lover finds
a hundred reasons to say why he loves you.

A slogan turned into scripture, she wears
it close to her chest; words sweating with her
on the mattress, to wait patiently, following
all the directions from the map of her heart.

I’ll mark the landscape, paint portraits of her
in my mind’s eye —learning the grammar
of her body, and the rules of her orientation.

Inside her, every detail is an interior design,
yet all of it points outward towards me.
She proves me down to earth, grounded
by the gravity of her presence.

Her breath is thick; honest words grazing
the neck like prayer; and in silence, our eyes
speak the sentences our lips can’t form.

Love repeats itself, a devotion like unanswered
prayers, whispered night after night; to find
a surrender that completes both sides of us.

I found my Hundredth Reason.
Too many of my tears wore your name,
Too many nights spent tossing and turning;
It burns and sears me, your cursed flame -
Long gone yet still fueling my yearning.
.
I'm a fool, a wreck, irreparable mess,
Drowning in 'what if's and regret;
Immune to time - this pain in my chest,
Clinging like an unpaid debt.
.
And you probably don't think of me,
Of our nights, and talks, and smiles,
You must be living your life, free,
Separated from me by so many miles.
.
I tried to overwrite the story in my heart,
To replace you with someone new;
But they all lack some undefined part,
No one can match the memory of you.
.
I carry this curse of living death,
Trapped in the past that we once shared,
Following me with every breath,
A monster with its teeth bared.
.
And I have no one that could understand
The gaping hole you left in my soul,
A living monument of a love so grand,
It consumed me and burned me whole.
.
And you'll likely never even know
Just how much I suffered when you left,
And still do, whenever I sink low,
My eternal torment, leaving me bereft.
.
.
07.09.2025.
(for G.)
A relationship’s anchor— we could be falling in love or sinking
down, holding on for far too long, too shy to step fully into the
moment, being too hesitant to taste a worthwhile experience.
So awkward in time— yet the stars in a smile still flicker, asking
for a space in time, a little corner of the universe to stretch this
love beyond its natural season.

But seasonal heartbreaks are just another episode, and you
know how it goes— new loves spring up, and blossoming
overnight, only to end in snow.

We cling to them in desperation, but strange terrain prevails
dismay; hard to walk steady as every step sinks into the cold.
And still we rush— rushing to fall in love, slipping through
the snow, hoping this time the anchor holds, hoping this time
we don’t drown.

Where will the anchor fall down to?
con todo mi amor para Arturo Patricio Linares Salgado, de quien florece por ti


No llegué buscándote, ni sabiendo qué querías.
Y aun asĂ­, sin darme cuenta, ya eras parte de mis dĂ­as.
No hubo promesas, ni fondo musical,
solo tĂş, hablando de lo normal.
Y yo, entendiendo que algo dentro de mĂ­
ya no volverĂ­a a sentirse igual.

No era azul, ni rojo, ni gris.
Era verde
como lo que crece sin pedir permiso,
como lo que nace donde algo ya estaba listo.

Desde entonces, todo tiene tu esencia.
Tu forma de estar cambiĂł mi presencia.
El café sabe distinto, el cielo brilla más,
las cosas simples pesan, como si el tiempo no pasara jamás.

Me sorprendiĂł esta forma en la que te volviste mi raĂ­z,
como si al respirar te amara más, como si mi cuerpo te dijera: “aquí”.
Como si mis manos recordaran tu piel
y al tocarla, entendieran que no era por placer,
sino por fe.

Fe en eso que no se explica,
en las miradas largas,
en tus muecas raras,
en la forma en que se abren mis grietas
cuando nombras mis palabras.

Amar(te) en 4 días, ¿quién lo habría dicho?
Pero no hubo prisa, solo un salto al abismo.
Un “te amo” que no fue grande ni dramático,
solo real, tan simple y tan mágico.

Y sigo sin saber cĂłmo explicarte
que mi sombra se mueve al mirarte,
que mi piel busca tu contacto,
y mi cuerpo se enreda si no estás al tanto.

Que no hay forma lĂłgica de sostener este temblor,
este deseo de contar tus sonrisas
y entender el idioma de tu voz.
Que cada segundo contigo
es un eco sin reloj.

No te conocĂ­a, y sin embargo te reconocĂ­a.
Como si algo mĂ­o, que dormĂ­a,
se despertara con tu risa,
y dijera: “era por aquí,
era este el punto de partida”.

Y aunque no sepa darle nombre,
ni quiera encerrarte en una definiciĂłn,
te juro que hay algo en ti
que vale cada contradicciĂłn.

AsĂ­ que si no entiendes todo lo que siento,
no importa.
Yo tampoco lo entiendo.

Solo sé que me pasa contigo,
como un campo que florece después del frío.
Como si por cada respiro tuyo
yo también respirara más mío.

Y si todo esto se reduce a dos palabras,
que sean estas:
te amo
aunque no haya rima,
aunque no haya calma,
aunque solo quede el alma,
mirándote crecer
mientras crezco entre tus ramas.
Con todo mi amor para Arturo Patricio Linares Salgado đź’Ś.
Un poema en verso libre sobre la forma inesperada, cotidiana y mágica en la que el amor transforma todo, desde cosas simples como el café, la luz, la piel, los días, hasta cosas mas personales como el autoconocimiento a través de otra persona. Escribirlo fue una manera de dejar constancia de lo que siento, aunque todavía no encuentre todas las palabras.
Y, Arturo, si estás leyendo esto...
quiero darte las gracias por inspirarme todos los dĂ­as.
Gracias a ti soy capaz de escribir, de sentir y de crecer de maneras que antes no conocĂ­a.
Este poema es solo un reflejo de lo mucho que transformas mi vida.
You’ve got a toothpick smile — sharp enough to pick
the words from my lips as we kiss, my darling.
Two roadmaps curve across your eyes —you see
exactly where you’re headed, and still, I hope you
trace your way back to me. As there’s a picture on my
ceiling — a memory sketch of you that walls can't help
but echo. Even in silence, this house whispers your name.
We're paired like bus wires — tethered to our thoughts,
transporting the weight of our unspoken luggage.

You’re cruel with beauty, closed off like a bookshop on
a Sunday —but I still read your body language on the
spine of your sighs. While the anchor of this love dives
deep, and I hold fast — even if your tides pull me under.
Your face — inked in my mind like a permanent marker
refusing to fade.

Finally, you’re an orchid waiting in the sun, and I,
the patient gardener, learning to love each petal as it
unfolds; knowing that with each new bloom, we both
grow. So if I must wait — let it be beneath your seasons.
Let me turn with your weather, and stand still long
enough for you to call this heart your home.
we met in a bar —
by accident —
i was with a friend.
we matched on tinder
a while ago.
yet, word by word,
you quoted my bio
back to me.
as if you didn’t care.
so casually.

we talked bad dates,
cats, the types we were into,
living sitch in oxford,
housemate gossip,
then silently judged some people.

my friend left, eventually.
we decided to head home.
you were parked at the station,
and i lived off botley road.

you didn’t mind the company.
i didn’t know you.
but i knew of you.
barely.
a friend of a friend.

then i found myself accepting
the lift you offered.

we were almost by my house
when you asked about my plans.

maybe i’d finish
a half-drunk bottle, i said,
with nothing else in mind.

you glanced over,
said you had one at home
you were dying to open.
extremely cheap.
probably vile.
saved for special occasions,
and improvised nights.

the spark was effortless.
as we got to my driveway,
you turned us around.

the ridiculous treasure
you had saved
was worse than we feared,
yet we drank it
until we forgot the taste.

the selfies you made us take
were the silliest kind:
posing with fake glasses,
bandanas,
and that cursed, stick-on moustache.

yours (bandana, not moustache),
wrapped around my neck,
pulled me close.
then you kissed me.

it caught me off guard —
the difference.
you didn’t need me to stay.
i didn’t hear you beg.
with the bottle between us,
we settled in your bed,
discussed programming,
reflection,
the act of meditation —
such an unexpected night to have.

as you drove me home,
you put cheesy pop songs on,
belting out taylor swift.
i noticed the comic strips
glued on the interior —
it was harley quinn.

i still remember all of it.

mostly the goodbye kiss
you carefully asked for
as i opened the door.
and the way our lips brushed
was almost like a dream,
because it was the first time
a kiss,
exchanged with a stranger,
didn’t feel cheap.

we weren’t really strangers
by the end of the night.

(at least not as much
as we currently are.)
this one is about a tinder match I bumped into accidentally, and spent a soft night in his world.
july 30, 2025
i was warned
i'd fall for you.
stay away from him,
they said.
sweetie, he’s bad news.

i laughed it off,
thinking i knew better,
thinking, that this time
would be different.

i always loved a challenge.

three months it took
for my mind
to catch up
with my heart.
by then,
you’d already
moved on.
this one is about the attraction my friends noticed long before I did.
July 29, 2025
BEEZEE Jul 24
He is the light
breaking through the trees
at dawn.

The dust
that falls softly
from the stars.

The wind
that blows leaves
into the air.

And the moon
beaming
on her skin
so fair.

Subtleties
with remarkable beauty.

His love
lives within the universe—
so truly.

He is the light
breaking through the trees
at dawn.

She will cherish a love
until she is gone.
Nov 21 2020
A quiet tribute to my (now) husband
We had only been dating 7 months when I wrote this.
Today is our 2 year wedding anniversary
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