I am loving California!!!!! We have my Abuela holding her great-grandson: My son, Bambino. And here we have Chili, my cousin :) I have the most beautiful familia! Everyone is so nice, so beautiful. Boricua, baby! And by the way, Bambino was NOT feeling the ocean. That's my Papi trying to give him his first feel for the beach! Yeah. My cousins visited me for the first time. It was nice to meet them. And we have some more pics of my Abuela, Cheo, my Uncle Tito and Uncle Luis So-California is really nice, everyone. I am truly enjoying my vacation. Seeing my Abuela, Papi, My Tios, Tias, Primos and Primas has been so amazing. I have the most amazing family! And these are some pictures of me and the great Bambino!!! I always try to take a few pictures of me. Yes. The hair is red now, people!

this surpasses what is simply you and what divinely is me i have intricately allowed the fibers of my being to be woven into the blanket which you hold me within your arms my security. my inhaled scent of a familiarity in the musky aftermath of future lovemaking. i have created memories and shared past lives with you, my lover. i have endured systematic pain and washed my soul anew with the baptism of your hidden sex under cool khakis. you were the virginity which i offered eternal abundance through reassurance after moonlight reluctance in the uncertainty in the room. you create passionate environments which we lay to bear energies and future engagements reserved for lovers only in the midst of public displays of affection you were my resurrection in the death of my soul my lover, you were there when all faith has come and gone and yet you rely to me electronically that you still believe in me. within simply being you there are so many intricacies however this has woven the intimate f...

I stumbled upon a written stance made especially for you in the pages of my poetry notebook. you were there subtlety lies within where words intertwine mixing into dreamworlds reserved for you and I. the words had meaning. undeniable force awakening vowels and adjectives to try to give the description of you. simply you, being the mastermind behind my muse. the unconquerable agenda as to which my heart mends and i simply cannot deny the very existence of your being. because you being my secret lover forced into the light gave me the pen, the paper, within my sight. I stumbled upon (you). -b.r.rivera Because I love the number 3, my final posting for the day. Enjoy.

have you gaze upon my slanted eyes and you entrance my vision looking and glancing for something untold that was already there obstructed but not hidden. for in my eyes you are the truth. the original high- see you walk into my presence and my knees jell-ify from a hypnotic rhythm that only your manly glide from true essence can form. and i wish i could smell your cologne on my skin right now. how the fragrance mixes with my delicate flowers and dances to make a cooling water heavenly aroma. you. the original high. the smile across my lips that part ever since the first time we kissed an embrace that secures its own blanket where long arms become circles of everlasting warmth and refuge. and i could die there. in your arms, i could be a bird un-caged--dancing and singing with pain not known as a feeling. you. the original high. have you softly touch my skin and i melt. there's electricity and fire and passion that consumes me as i breathe and exhale from the sheer magnitude o...

I need to know whats in here. what lies submerged under skin and bones tissues and veins what is your lifeline besides the rhythmic beat of a muscle pumped to the core heard in my ear as I rest upon your chest. I need to know what's in here what lies soul deep of hidden/chasms of unexplored terrain rustic and begging to be a beaten path from one's sole of their feet I need to know the simplicity of your intricacies laid in plain view yet puzzling to the eye. Enigma. a logic that can only be philosophised in the hidden works of great poems and metric within verse. I need to know what's in here whats. in. here. what truly moves you and shakes you makes your mojo be your soul flow and dance your life to an offbeat chord. I need to know want to know desire to know what's in here. in you. because I am simply and utterly in love with what lies (in there.) -b.r.rivera

Closing my eyes the dewy mist showers my face sparkling diamonds as reflections upon the moonlight I spread my arms wide to welcome to warmth upon the slippery skin that glides me. moves me me. indulges me. yet afraid of the fall. Slowly, I creep to the edge the bank of the free river flowing welcomes me to go with the flow. the motion. the water that flows and ebbs curving over slicked thighs and ankle deep submersion that magnetizes the pure woman(ness) of me to dive in- yet I cannot swim. my heart beats. faster. rhythmically I sync to the trickling sounds rolling over the exposed rock and wet moss. look at the beauty. the rock. this river flowing into the mouth of an abyss I close my eyes held unto nothing and jumped the waterfall, a gentle kiss. -b.r.rivera

Riddle me this riddle me that how words float on paper in the magic of vowels stacked upon metaphors slicked into similes galore hidden euphemisms revealed in spoken word the flicker of a tongue born to my mothers womb encased in the placenta of a dictionary reading by nightlight blessed with words upon sight insomnia encases the artistry of which I write. riddle me this riddle me that a woman being words upon destiny to live a poet, die a poet my death row meal a platter of a fountain pen and journal in which my stomach eats words and I am fulfilled. you are my first love affair, sweet man artist upon mine in candle lit rooms and silenced thoughts reverberated the age of the glass of wine given to me by my lover, I sit and write and write riddle me this, sweet poetry how are you love at first sight? -b.r.rivera

poets rejoice with the sweet smell of ink gracing a crisp sheet of paper writers share the unbound camaraderie of talent speaking volumes within soft whispers of prose. and dedication. we lie untouched to the undefinable boundaries separated by reality and the false perspective of truth. for reality, as a poet is conscious and within a dream awake and sleep only wishing and hoping for a brand new pen and a crisp sheet of paper write, my poet. write. -b.r.rivera

he tries to sway me to the wind that blows in the opposite direction Giving me pillow talk in the early morning where burning aurora rises in the east. and I come admittedly pulling away from the things which hurt me I am saddened that he has not called to learn of my location. sickened that my presence isn't readily missed. so I go to the way which the wind blows me drifting vicariously and gently I land on hundreds of threads of sheets. subdued to the masculinity and pure divinity to which the wind blows softly in my ear. he speaks of the truth which my heart cannot bear but my mind yields the truth. that my soul has the human desire to be a woman. to be loved. I deserve this. I deserve the passion which i feel and the mighty hurricane to that the wind becomes. the electricity and pure satisfaction of breathing daily a renewal of fresh air. I inhale. deeply. carefully. meticulously. the gusts are too strong. I disclose that my wings are broken yet he holds me tight to be the air ...

Leaves have fallen and blown away in the wind while rains from April cling to the blades of grasses Gravitated to the damp soil upon the earth Where Adam gave Eve a rib Collected by God's finger touching the human race It is now warm Warmer than the dewy goodness that makes the sweet smell of flowers to permeate through silken clouds Nights become crisp welcomed by Starry galaxies intertwined with the Heavens which has escape to only those which welcome it. It is beautiful The goodness of which miracles are seen through beauty and the eye of which beholds its perceptions Constant reminders of the amazement beyond Where God's earth becomes the stillness of one's soul that is calm. Beauty.

Where will you go when the sheets are cold to the touch the nightstand does not hold my glasses and the pillows remain untouched by the Heavenly scent that clings to damp skin after my evening shower Where will you go when loneliness turns into repression and candles are lit only for rolling blackouts Storms approach to yield downpours And my umbrella is not in the hall closet. Where will you go as laughter does not fill the acoustic walls bouncing off distant memories and my tender voice is only found in recordable videos will you watch my body as if it was there will you listen to old voicemails to find the inflections of my voice will old letters become new poetry comparable to Sonia Sanchez as you find the birth and rebirth of beauty within words? Where will you go when R&B tracks are begging for the smooth gliding of feet to welcome their tune in hushed embraces when a kiss on the neck is a welcome to the invitation of my hips parting and waves of wetness are your remembrance ...

Yo deseo mucho que siente su tacto, a sabiendas de que no es posible Tu beso es un susurro en mi cuello. Tu abrazo es el viento que muere Para mí, eres un fantasma en la noche que se desvanece. Yo miro por su cuerpo, pero usted no está allí. Usted se ha ido. Simplemente desapareció Tiene mis ojos me engañaron? Que estuvo aquí, hace unos momentos. Nuestra cama está todavía caliente La vela sigue parpadeando. Pero aún estoy aquí, solo ... Quiero que tu contacto no está allí. Por millas y las manos de tiempo que están separados Sin embargo, todavía quieren sentir su beso, su tacto Usted es el susurro del viento, lo que me da un soplo de aire fresco. -b.r.rivera Siempre aqui.

No one looks at her anymore. She sits dazed and confused amongst Cheap berber grey rugs and atop creaking weight given mattresses calling out to many waiting to be blessed with hands that would embrace and enclose warmth To pop her cherry and de-virginize the white cleanliness of crispness freshness and new lovers' forgiveness Forgiveness is she How could it be that I was once her first love and she was mine Inseparable. Clung hip to hip and smiling back at me, comfort in the middle of sleepless nights and thoughts to hold on to I whispered sweet nothings and dreams reserved for magical places, deep dimensions and untold stories Unfolded. New hearts new beginnings/ first loves/ joy pains and historical monuments that birthed the life into my nostrils Breathed air into my lungs and rose oxygen unto my chest/ allowed exhalation and respiration. My second heartbeat. I breathed once for her but she lays by the wastelands reaching out to me, calling my name A flood that has risen from s...

I am a kiss Landing on the sweet succulence Fortifying the moment of tenderness As time stands still Upon the wings and the hands of time I hear the soft breath of dripping passion in my mind- Slowly satisfying     simply energizing The wet juicy(ness) as I surrender to The lusting moistness Forming in between my thighs- and I'm slowly…I'm slowly…I'm slowly Mesmerized feeling my body getting high     so high And I'm light,         so light         as my body gets closer Joining- I'm getting nearer, so close Time stands still- Hush…just listen. (you hear that?) So I surrender. Give me more. So much that I I'm engulfed in you/can't breathe I'm asthmatic need air…slowly smothering From all this passionate loving slowly dying, but I like it Give me more. Give me more. So much, that I feel you all under, beneath my pores Permeating through my skin, I feel your tender touch Touch to feel, Feel to need, Need to love, Love had me A soft breath beneath my ear, t...