the world and writing of a nyc writer

gretchen is a writer in new york city

Tag: soul (page 11 of 59)

position paragon

position paragon

my breath became
an opera
when he walked
through
my door.
alto exhale
soprano.
inhale…
i bit knuckles
and chewed
fingers.
but. when.
i looked at him
and his forest
eyes. i. explored
this place inside
nature. where we
met. in the first
place.

desiderio ansioso

desiderio ansioso

come mi
ricercato
in modi
mai
diventando
il modo in cui
Io finalmente…
desiderato.
volevo
in un altro
Lingua –
era quello che
solo
due di noi
ha parlato.
come mi
ricercato
le sue labbra
il suo gusto
il suo tocco
è come…
volevo
la musica
del nostro
movimento.
segreto
beatitudine.

eager yearning

how i
wanted
in ways
never
becoming
the way that
i finally…
desired.
i wanted
in another
language –
it was what
only
the two of us
spoke.
how i
wanted
his lips
his taste
his touch
his… how i
wanted
the music
of our
movement.
undisclosed
rapture.

esaltazione inalare

esaltazione inalare

ci siamo svegliati.
come il caffè nero;
Vivaldi’s estate.
quattro ore di sonno –
5am. toccare
con un solo sguardo.
promettente. senza parlare;
un bagliore arancione di mattina –
amore a prima vista;
dita aggrovigliate. gambe avvolte.
come abbiamo segreti
scambiati.
ogni
respiro perduto.

inhale elation

we. awakened.
like black coffee;
Vivaldi’s summer.
four hours sleep –
5am. touching.
with one look.
promising. without speaking;
an orange glow of morning –
first sight love;
fingers tangled. legs wrapped.
how we have
secrets. exchanged
with every
lost breath.

invitante infinito

invitante infinito

egli è apparso e
il mio mondo suonava
come corde.
attraverso una strada di città
all’interno della luce solare
mi voltai per vedere
un ritratto della storia;
il mio cuore. rinato.
cigarretes e jazz.
fare l’amore
con parole e suoni
inaudito , indicibili
da qualsiasi altro.

inviting infinity

he appeared and
my world sounded
like strings.
across a city street
inside of the sunlight
i turned to(o)…
a portrait of history;
my heart. reborn.
cigarettes and jazz.
silence and stories.
making love
with words and sounds
unheard, untold
from any other.

this is how it starts and sounds…

from brooklyn to italy

I’ve been vacant a few days. This has resulted in a couple of interesting things. I shook my boyfriend off once and for all. I tried to be upset, but I’m used to dumping boyfriends by now.

I’m not even sure if these people are boyfriends. Maybe they’re just lovers I briefly obsess over because I’m fond of the poetry it all bleeds. Continue reading

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