I am trying to collect Ryan's poetry. The last poem he sent me I am afraid got deleted so when we get his phone back I am hoping to get his creative writing stuff. He had been working on a book called Ascent. He started it a couple years ago and I had always encouraged him to go back to it. We had recently renamed his characters and had a long discussion of the perfume for the main female lead, he wanted either shalimar or emerude, my two signature scents and we went with the mysterious shalimar. He read the passage to me in the car as I drove and I was amazed at how much territory he had managed to cover in such a short time with this new app he was using. It hurts the core of my heart that it is the Southern Authers Expo here at the library today and you can bring in 10 pages of a your novel and have an editor look at it. He could have brought it in and worked with someone. He wanted to finish it during NaNoWriMo. It hurts my heart in ways that I cant even react. Why did he have to give up like that. I want to go home. I dont want to be here at work today. It hurts so bad, like a black hole of pain. It was probably to soon to go back and read our first emails. We communicated so much and so intensely I am 99% sure I told him every story I had, twice. It occured to me that if I wanted to write a trashy romance novel I could just copy and paste huge passages of sex scenes that he crafted as a wordsmith and then I would have the perspective from a man, not what women think that men think. I am trying desperately to follow the lead of the poet Christina Rossettii when she wished her lover to not be sad if he remembered her. She would have rather her lover forget her than to remember and be sad.
Rossetti's poem "Remember":
Remember me when I am gone away, Gone far away into the silent land; When you can no more hold me by the hand, Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay. Remember me when no more day by day You tell me of our future that you plann'd: Only remember me; you understand It will be late to counsel then or pray. Yet if you should forget me for a while And afterwards remember, do not grieve: For if the darkness and corruption leave A vestige of the thoughts that once I had, Better by far you should forget and smile Than that you should remember and be sad.
Ryan's poem "XXX" written 9/16/13:
I taste the cream of your passion glazed upon my lips As my tongue continues lashing while my hands grasp your hips Your hands are steady dashing through my scalp and to the tips Or your fingernails are slashing the sheets where I almost hear the rips Oozing desire I crawl on top placing kisses along the way Anxiously awaiting the pounding you guide my cock inside to play You taste your juice as you kiss me hard and feel me inhabit you deep And give you pleasure that you've never known, enough to make you weep. For hours we slide our bodies through our sweat For so long every inch of us is wet We fade together as if we were made together, nothing can compare Your my lover, you submit to me because I will take you there