had i lived if i had not died an impressionable thumbprint to lay and co-exist soul stamped and virtually entranced upon memories reserved for future smiles unexpected and inappropriate laughs in silent spaces within this small space of the body cavity i have left my eyes to see the envisioned world which i created to seek and inspire. love and devour the drops and essential goodness of life which i take a huge bite satisfied in the juicy aftertaste of experienced moments and inexplicable beauty where do the skies end and Heaven begin climbing Jacob's ladder and surrounded by angelic celestial matter dense with beauty God's concentrated hues which i see and realize that i have lived for more than me. i lived. i was here. i am the re-incarnation potential not wasted highest of the most High Jesus walks as i touch the sky being upon this planet a Rubik's cube enigma where you cannot fit the spot or imitate the God given reality of my blessed individuality baptized in the worr

home lies beyond an edifice a structural building filled with bricks and mortar sidepaneling and dry wall. home lies beyond a four letter word it encompasses eight letters two syllables and one sound : laughter. re-defined is the complexity yet intricacy of what an abode means to me. shall i be comforted from harsh winds and cold nights refuge to heated blankets and seeped tea leaves simmered upon a whistling stove. you, are more than an orifice a maintained place of carpeted residence-you resonate and advocate spiritual blessings my Father, whom knocks at the door naked feet and prayed blackened knees nestled within tears and memories etched upon silent reverberations of soul stamps self addressed to the walls which hold them- home, send me my peace and being the enclosure beyond weight bearing columns, flower gardens adorn the steps with no life inside (this room). in here, in home, be the place where silent prayers are heard, bouncing off of windowpanes as clouds form drip. drop. ra

i need a good cry. the kind of cry where i don't care which way my hair bounces and falls over pillows and newly sprinkled sheets of tears. i need a good cry the kind that opens your eyes while even shut, wailing in pain the kind where i just don't give a fuck- and don't offer that tissue again. i need a good cry the kind that mourns and screams yells to the highest point of things run out of air, lungs decreased panting to breathe, God, give me the serenity, grant me peace. i need a good cry. where Maybelline and Covergirl don't mean a thing and raccoon eyes lay weary as my face grows teary the kind where swollen lids are accepted smiles are rejected and i slowly neglect the mirror, the sound, the feeling i need a good cry where my face is numb from body shut-down blood pressure rise stomach hurts, pass me a Tums- i need a good ol' fashioned cry. Clean my soul out. Go ahead and cry, baby. Comfort, is not a doubt. -b.r.rivera

I lay upon the crisp sheets pillows adorned with soft down compliment the white angelic beauty of this linen. I know what awaits for me. it is him. Inhaling his scent, my body turns to face him as we shadow dance in the dark. The pale moon bounces off the sheer curtains playfully unto my skin in the presence of this undefined space, his chocolate mocha skin undeniable and smooth his lips, warm and soft. indulgence of the highest pedigree as I increase the seconds to which he enters me. soulful and hedonistic his smooth circles sway my hips in unified and synchronized rhythms as he again and again and again presses his lips to the this and that of the nape of my neck and he pulls me deeper and inches I arch my back. I want more. Give me more. Perspiration forms as beads trickled to my middle of increasing moistness skin to skin gliding Trying to hold back. Fighting the thunderous buildup which he again and again licks from the sweet cup out from which I flow a river of satisfaction And