I know, someday, you will forget the
poetry I left on your lips, but the
next woman you love – she will taste
this. While you tuck my name secret Continue reading “Prevail”


The first time I stood before
him bare and naked, I was soft
gooseflesh and self-conscious,
yet overridden with desire. As
if I was just a girl, learning
how to be a woman.
Continue reading “Bare”

He tells me he’s not a writer as he
explains his struggle to find the
right words to express his love for
me. Behind his every cliché line and
overused metaphors, I know there is
something so precious between us
that language itself can’t name.
So I treasure every word he gives
me like they are pieces of himself,
because goddamit, at least he tries.

  • For Day 15: Endeavors, #ourpoetryjourneydec17