This, my friends, is my life. I have been where I have been, followed my heart, ignored and trusted my instinct, made big mistakes and great strides. I may have learned lessons and chosen paths that have made things harder, but I have never done anything to intentionally harm or deceive another, and that’s something I can be proud of. Do the best you can to be your best self, and never let anyone make you feel bad about being you…♥ Continue reading My life…
It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s longing. It doesn’t interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive. It doesn’t interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life’s betrayals or have become shriveled and closed from fear … Continue reading The Invitation…
Be strong, be bold, be real and honest. Show the world who you are. Be clear about what you want. Be strong, be bold, be real and honest. Show the world who you are. Be clear about what you want. Protect your lovely heart. Fight for what is right. Let go of those who do not understand and abide by the definitions of respect, Loyalty, and integrity. This is sexy. This is beautiful. This is what you deserve… ♥ Continue reading Be awesome
What do you do in a situation where your love of another is infringing on your love of self? Very recently, I found myself in the difficult position of fighting what became one last fight for someone/something that truly meant the world to me, but to whom it seemed I no longer meant very much at all. Like so many nights before this one, I had found myself, belly-up, pouring my heart out and turning out my lamp with with tears in my eyes. On that particular evening, I was lucky enough to actually get some sleep, but the experience … Continue reading When you let go of another – when you feel free…
From the songs I made my hymn to cure my loneliness and disguise my tears, condensed to them, I meet you at every corner of my thoughts, I get drunk every day more in your absence. I wish I was the perfect prosody to lose myself in your verses, then walking in your company, singing your melody on your skin that guides and takes me. I see you with my closed eyes, I feel you holding on to my memory, lewd, abrasive, temptation of my most secret desires and surprise myself with the fragments of thoughts united by emotions long … Continue reading That suspended moment in time …
I made this small video, I would like to do something really special for each person who I have met… ♥ Continue reading Mothers’ Day…
As a sad goodbye song, my skin sings a simple refrain, low echoes, begging for your touch, strumming on my pores like a wanderer without direction; come, travel on my curves, drink from my pleasure. How can I appease the desires of my flesh? The desire that ails me, a hunger that has no end, the thirst for staying alive, the meeting of tired mouths eating themselves to satiate the most intimate secrets, the insane gluttony to swallow life in its fullness; the love that satisfies the soul. The rhythmic prose sung by the voices of troubadours lost in love, just like … Continue reading My skin is singing for you, come listen to it…
Blossom Dearie “If I Were A Bell” From the album Blossom Dearie – “Once Upon A Summertime” Continue reading Blossom Dearie – If I Were A Bell
He weaves words into metaphors, a syllabic alchemist with stories dripping from his fingers forming puddles on pages, painting night skies and the gaps in-between the stars because he was carved from twilight with crescents in his palms from carrying time travel letters to lost months, galaxies entwined with his mind and stanzas falling cosmic into his hands mapping out lines until poetry soaks into his skin waiting for the sun to rise and all because the boy had moons for eyes. Continue reading He weaves words…
Intimacy is your breath on my neck as we sleep. Intimacy is how you don’t make me apologize for the terribleness that is me. Intimacy is I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry. Intimacy is Don’t be. Intimacy is the kisses that stamp ‘mine’ across my abdomen. Intimacy is thighs. Intimacy is beyond names and words and the veneer of civility. Intimacy is savagery. Intimacy is dark fairy tales, dark chocolate, candles. Intimacy is the wine and underwear. Intimacy is doing nothing with the days, but handling and dropping them with clumsy, irreverent hands. Intimacy is finding a place we fit. We fulfill intimacy. Intimacy … Continue reading Intimacy…
Beatriz Esmer 