shortstorieswithuna

[shortstorieswithuna]

I loved a man who could never cry,

He stole tears from me.

Always waiting for him at my door, always waiting for his voice,

Always waiting for his love.

I loved a man who never cried and he left all his tears with me.

[shortstorieswithuna]

Night

I have a watermelon on my bedroom floor

I have the moon in my pillows

I have you on my cheeks

I am finally alone. With all of me. I am finally at home. In all of me.

And it smells like lilacs on hot summer nights. It feels like standing at the edge of tomorrow. It moves like you and me in symbiotic sleep.

And i am ready for the night.

[shortstorieswithuna]

My soul is made of moon dust and seawater.

He has this blue green tattoo, it matches his blue green eyes. Sitting on his shoulder; I am all clean, no marks, no holes; except the ones inside me. He inspects me, checks me from top to bottom, not like a mechanic, the way new parents do when they're holding their new child in their arms, safely home, safely whole. He checks me over from top to bottom; listening to each sound my body makes, the way air runs though my intestines. Stoping at the places i tell him feel strange feel like they don't belong; he runs his fingers over them, gazes, murmurs, whispers to my body that it is right. The way he looks at me, I have never been looked at like this before, like I'm it, we're it, there is nothing but this tiny room filled with windows. Nothing but his blue green eyes on me.

We lie in bed after, I'm on my back he's on his side, his hand tracing circles around my nipple, lightly blowing, watching every movement of my body so intently. Waiting to see it rise and then moving to the other, his hand slides to my belly and rest lightly.

When you are making love he looks at you with so much intensity, looks so deeply into you, you want to look away, want to laugh, tell stories, keep him at an arms length like all the others. Never let them see you cry for too long, always end with a smile, always tell them everything will be okay. But he won't let you, looks into your eyes, into your seawater soul with equal amounts of hurt, and no willingness to hide it. He won't laugh while you are making love to fool you into thinking this is only for fun. He'll only look at you to hold these feelings; these places in your souls. Feel everything unflinchingly. And you will; you will kiss him down his shoulders, over the blue green tattoo, down his back, and across his hip bones, never laughing, never smiling, together for a few hours in deep solemnity.

[shortstorieswithuna]

Everything about you breaks me. And I wish I could be strong.

[shortstorieswithuna]

The first time he calls you holy, you laugh it back so hard your sides hurt. The second time, you moan gospel around his fingers between your teeth. He has always surprised you into surprising yourself. Because he’s an angel hiding his halo behind his back and nothing has ever felt so filthy as plucking the wings from his shoulders— undressing his softness one feather at a time. God, if you’re out there, if you’re listening, he fucks like a seraphim, and there’s no part of scripture that ever prepared you for his hands. Hands that map a communion in the cradle of your hips. Hands that kiss hymns up your sides. He confesses how long he’s looked for a place to worship and,oh, you put him on his knees. When he sinks to the floor and moans like he can’t help himself, you wonder if the other angels fell so sweet. He says his prayers between your thighs and you dig your heels into the base of his spine until he blushes the color of your filthy tongue. You will ruin him and he will thank you; he will say please. No damnation ever looked as cozy as this, but you fit over his hips like they were made for you.You fit, you fit, you fit. On top of him, you are an ancient god that only he remembers and he offers up his skin. And you take it. Who knew sacrifice was so profane? And once you’ve taught him how to hold your throat in one hand and your heart in the other, you will have forgotten every other word, except his name.

PROFANE, by Ashe Vernon (via latenightcornerstore)

[shortstorieswithuna]

No one has ever looked at me with such deep affection. It is. It was A very heady feeling

[shortstorieswithuna]

I love him, but he broke my heart... So you know, there's not much more I can do.

[shortstorieswithuna]

Everything is a little odd, but really lovely

everything really is beautiful today. i'm 24, lovely and free. 

the sky is the perfect blue, just like me, just like the sea. 

[shortstorieswithuna]

How is it that you know more about me without ever undressing me, than all the other people I’ve let take me apart?

Who are you? You must be a special kind of blue bird. My kind of blue bird. Wearing my color, singing my song, knowing my soul.

[shortstorieswithuna]

Come back.

[shortstorieswithuna]

Everything about you makes me soft.

And that is terrifying.

[shortstorieswithuna]

You're the moon, and I'm the sea,

I can't think about you anymore. You hurt too much, I can't survive this life walking around in pieces, so I'm putting my outside back together for awhile, even if my insides are wrecked. I'm writing you this letter to tell you what to do, when you are ready to come back. You must stay gone for at least a year. Find a new love, many girls, many people try them all on, try sad and happy ones, ones that seem broken and ones that seem whole. Move away, try a new city on. Go on tour. Be as big as you ever dreamed. Find everything you ever thought you wanted. You must make your own money, and buy your own food. Starve for awhile, don't ask your parents for anything, see what you can make with your own two hands. When you're ready, when you feel you can't go on another day without me, wait more. Contemplate more, I can't survive being broken again. You either love me. All of me, as long as we both can. Or you let me go, I can survive like this, I can live like this, but I won't survive being killed by you a second time. And if you find you still love me, come to me, tell me you'll love me till your body gives out, till your mind goes feeble, till the sun has left us, and I'll find my way to you. I may go so far neither of us believe there is a way back, but love is a curious thing. And we are unlike anyone who has ever lived. I don't believe that anything about us is unsalvageable. You're the moon and I'm the sea, we draw each other.

[shortstorieswithuna]

I have rituals ways of being to keep me where I am. When I drink too much I wake up Walk my neighborhood Force myself to eat toast Read too much Buy myself a small bean burrito--no cheese and try to forget. When I'm missing you I smile at every person I know Tell them I'm so lucky to be alive on such a lovely day Avoid the books of poetry next to my bed And try to cry until I can't feel you.

[shortstorieswithuna]

i don't know how to be here without you.

una bird to moon

[shortstorieswithuna]

i've been seeing this new boy. 

and everytime I leave the room, 

I'm sure he's left me. 

walked out before i can make it back. 

each time i ask him if he's still there

he seems confused.

because all i see is you. 

Moon, 

leaving me before I've had time to fall asleep. 

[shortstorieswithuna]

Scent

una bird

[shortstorieswithuna]

all these boys fall in love with me, before they can know me. then they’re disappointed when I’m not perfection. and I’m the one left in love.

una bird