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black book
September 2008 
Black Book Closed
Posted on Aug 23rd, 2008
by 
Loh El
Loh El
This little archive of my life since thirteen is now almost entirely full, so the black book will be closed save for the frequent reminders it will offer me in reading. These are the last pages recorded here...
All of us are better when we're loved. I have always been loved, but I have not always loved...
We talked all night till we could talk no more
and we decided it best that I sleep on the floor.
The bed is for the child, and I am a man
though I feel more like an infant at the touch of her hand.
At home in those arms I could say everything, and I did.
I am free to love this woman and her adorable kid,
though I am not a father and I wonder if I had been
Would I be any better? useless wondering...
Whatever happens, happens, for life is but a dream.
All I know is that I love this life and so too I admire her dreams.
In the morning she recalled to me what I had said in her subconscious
"That mouth would make for a great blowjob" and I laughed
Perhaps she saw right through me, but there was so much more
that flew through my mind as I lay on the floor.
There is beauty in those hands, chewed breasts and wrinkled belly
There is beauty in those bright eyes and smile
But all the while underneath there is beauty I cannot describe
It would be a lie if I tried but there is certainly something glorious
behind the surface of those eyes.
If I never see her again that will be alright,
the print left on my soul in a single, simple night
will lift me up in joy through a thousand different lifetimes.
Still, I know too well the danger of those eyes
they way they gaze longingly into mine.
I should like to close them with a kiss, a touch
but it would feel almost too much
if I should then like to be with you all the time.
What could I stand to lose? What might I find?
Love? Abandonment? Or all of the above?
Senses of Love
I love to look at life
through the reflections of light
caught by a window
when it is dark outside.
I love to listen in on conversations
carried in the wind
from some distant street or corner
I cannot see.
I love the taste of thick smoke
or thick steam washing all over me
or strong drink or someone else
tasting me.
I love the scent of baby's breath
or a woman's sweat
and anyone between the legs
just before or after sex.
I love to feel within myself
the loving essence of someone else
the burning of my skin
as sunlight comes pouring in
and at night the quiet peace
just before life and death meet.
All of us are better when we're loved. I have always been loved, but I have not always loved...
We talked all night till we could talk no more
and we decided it best that I sleep on the floor.
The bed is for the child, and I am a man
though I feel more like an infant at the touch of her hand.
At home in those arms I could say everything, and I did.
I am free to love this woman and her adorable kid,
though I am not a father and I wonder if I had been
Would I be any better? useless wondering...
Whatever happens, happens, for life is but a dream.
All I know is that I love this life and so too I admire her dreams.
In the morning she recalled to me what I had said in her subconscious
"That mouth would make for a great blowjob" and I laughed
Perhaps she saw right through me, but there was so much more
that flew through my mind as I lay on the floor.
There is beauty in those hands, chewed breasts and wrinkled belly
There is beauty in those bright eyes and smile
But all the while underneath there is beauty I cannot describe
It would be a lie if I tried but there is certainly something glorious
behind the surface of those eyes.
If I never see her again that will be alright,
the print left on my soul in a single, simple night
will lift me up in joy through a thousand different lifetimes.
Still, I know too well the danger of those eyes
they way they gaze longingly into mine.
I should like to close them with a kiss, a touch
but it would feel almost too much
if I should then like to be with you all the time.
What could I stand to lose? What might I find?
Love? Abandonment? Or all of the above?
Senses of Love
I love to look at life
through the reflections of light
caught by a window
when it is dark outside.
I love to listen in on conversations
carried in the wind
from some distant street or corner
I cannot see.
I love the taste of thick smoke
or thick steam washing all over me
or strong drink or someone else
tasting me.
I love the scent of baby's breath
or a woman's sweat
and anyone between the legs
just before or after sex.
I love to feel within myself
the loving essence of someone else
the burning of my skin
as sunlight comes pouring in
and at night the quiet peace
just before life and death meet.
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