Witchcraft – an ovillejo poem

What magic makes my fever rise?
It’s your eyes!

What alchemy my heart beat trips?
Your hips!

How do you tempt me, charm me cruel?
I’m a fool!

You’ve lit a fire and fed it fuel!
You cause my soul to shake its wings —
my body does the wildest things!
It’s your eyes, your hips — I’m a fool!

—–

POETIC FORM:

OVILLEJO – a ten-line poem made up of 3 rhyming couplets, plus a quatrain. The first line of each couplet is an 8 syllable question, while the second corresponding lines are 2 to 3 syllable responses or echoes. The final quatrain is usually a redondilla, written in trochaic tetrameter. The final line of the quatrain combines lines 2, 4, and 6. The overall rhyme scheme is aa/bb/cc/cddc.

POETIC FORM DIAGRAM:

a (8 syllables)
a (2-3 syllables)

b (8 syllables)
b (2-3 syllables)

c (8 syllables)
c (2-3 syllables)

c (8 syllables) trochaic pentameter
d (8 syllables) trochaic pentameter
d (8 syllables) trochaic pentameter
c lines 2, 4, and 6 (8 syllables) trochaic pentameter

AUDIO FILE:

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To My Several Loves

I have a non-exclusive heart and it beats to love more than one. I wouldn’t be surprised to find its voices are several, throbbing in a syncopated harmony.

When certain love songs come on the radio, I feel my chest tighten, my mouth stretches into a smile and I remember. Those memories are of more than one… they overlap and coexist in his oversized standing-room-only heart.

You see I’ve had so many first kisses first dances first make-up-make-out sessions, after first-lover’s-quarrels… I’ve loved in messy, muddy, mixed-up puddles and those who know my love and share it, are happy to celebrate the others. They understand that my love spills out into many cups.

Still, in this heart, oh my lover, are things that only belong to you. There are kisses in my mouth, hidden beneath my tongue, that are yours alone. I don’t touch anyone else the way I touch you — I cannot — because they are not you, and you are not them.

No relationship looks like ours, and that is as it should be. We are the only two who could build these memories and recall them fondly, in years to come.

There are plans, fantasies, wishes, and dreams only we two can share. There are no parts of me you to which you do not have free access — your key to my heart fits all the doors, and there are several keys.

At the same time there are things in me that only you can own, and I cherish them. I protect them like a fiercely monogamous lover — it is a dichotomy I cannot fully explain.

—–

The Way She Leaves Me

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It’s 4 a.m. and she brings me coffee. She sits with me in the bed. And she says things that make the wings in my soul twitch and tremble, preparing to fly. Not away, I would never fly away from her, in the frightened uncomfortable way of wild, nervous birds. No, this is more of a soaring on pure, clean joy, at being so greatly loved and cared for.

We talk in the darkness, steam rising from our cups and honesty filling the room with wakeful heat. She is preparing to leave me for the day — it is a Monday and work is required — but I can feel her struggling with the desire to crawl back beneath the covers with me and stay. She falls silent sometimes, gazes at me like the Wolf she is, like I am the moon in her early morning sky. I am.

I watch her shoulders tense as if they were covered in bristling fur. I feel her teeth clawing at my neck and nails biting into my hip. She will leave me soon but she wants me hungry before she goes. What’s more, she wants to carry that hunger with her too. She wants to feel it in her bones all day — to know that no matter the distance between us, I ache with it just as she does.

She checks the clock again, and growls, rolling out of bed. The right thing is pulling her, and it always wins. It’s one of the things I love about her — although today, I groan, protesting loudly about it. I watch her putting clothes on her body, and wonder how she can make that process just as gut-wrenchingly sexy as taking them off.

She knows I will linger here, in her bed. I will sip the remainder of my coffee, pull her still-warm pillow tight against my body, and watch the sunrise through her window before drifting back to sleep. Oh. So. Hungry. She tucks in her shirt tail, and threads her belt into the loops on her jeans. She pulls the blankets up around my shoulders and leans in for a last kiss, then two more.

I watch her pull the bedroom door closed and then listen for the echo of her work boots on the hardwood floor. She is leaving. Twelve steps between here and the front door and every last one feels like the Grand Canyon. Still I smile in the darkness of her bedroom. I watch her headlights sweep the ceiling over my head. I know she is a hungry Wolf, and she will be back.

—–

This Kiss

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there’s this kiss
lingers on these lips
tugs this smile
clouds this mind
like a jar of fireflies
on this summer night

POETIC FORM: SHARDORMA

Shardorma is a Spanish 6-line syllabic poem of 3/5/3/3/7/5 syllable lines respectively. – See more at: http://www.writersdigest.com/editor-blogs/poetic-asides/poets/shadorma-a-highly-addictive-poetic-form-from-spain#sthash.bn2uFi5o.dpuf

I am me…

cute-emo-couple-kissing-hug-black-and-white

Tonight I kissed a girl…

…but first we flirted, with each other, with her boyfriend. We held hands over dinner, talked and laughed. We’ve been getting to know each other for a bit, going out for drinks, meeting for coffee or lunch. They’re new to poly, and very much suited to it, though taking it slowly to sort out whether it’s a good step. I am someone who is willing to share my story and my experiences, for what they’re worth. As I am alone this weekend, while Biker Dude is with his girlfriend, they invited me to dinner…

It was so easy, slipping my hand into hers, laughing and smiling. I hugged her goodbye at the end of the night, and kissed her softly. I was struck by how good it felt… how true to me. I have spent a year believing I wasn’t looking for a girl. I wasn’t up for that kind of relationship, with the drama and hurt of a woman’s emotions.  I had been burned and I wasn’t going back for a very, very long time — if ever.

But, she is just so damned cute , and sweet, and genuine.  And he’s a gentleman with a growl in his throat, and just the hint of a little boy in him.  Strength and vulnerability.  He is easy to like.  I expected that.  She is easy to like.  Easy to kiss. She’s a surprise.

I feel so much more myself tonight, like I didn’t get it wrong with Dragonfly Girl, who broke up with me, and insisted Shepherd did, too. Tonight, I felt like I could honestly say it’s not that I am flawed. I really wasn’t fooling myself. Whatever mistakes ended our triad, it wasn’t that I didn’t want or love her. It absolutely wasn’t that I am not bisexual.

It’s too early to tell if these two new friends are a good fit, too early to know where this is heading — and for now, flirty friends is okay by me.  But tonight, I felt good, and for the first time in a long while, a beautiful woman held my interest more than a charming man.  I can’t help grinning like a Cheshire cat, at my reflection in the mirror.

Wow. This is me — polyamorous, bisexual, woman — rebuilding my world.