I loved

I loved your disheveled hair;

to those lips edged with crimson traces;

I loved your moles that served as a point and followed to my caresses;

to your hands, when they were filled with all my intention.

I loved that velvet lost between your bare legs;

to all those song endings:

to your voice, escaping from the deep sea; and,

always loved, the sustained cry of your last tremor...

L.L.  2022-06-23

You and the sea

The sea always waits
and that afternoon it was waiting for you,
just as you had agreed before.

Soon freedom dressed in light blue reflected your nudity.
And the sea, beyond, already guessed your wishes.
The jealous sand disapproved of your adventure
when your beauty without modesty flirted on that old wood.

You were determined that afternoon
the heat encouraged your desire
and the sage stretched log asked nonsensical questions:
How many faded caresses gave life to that mature skin?
How many kisses do those thick lips hold?
How many unconfessed secrets are those clear eyes witnessing?
How many times has the sea with its daring waters bathed that body inside?

How much pure love between you and the sea!

I look at you

I look at you

I have been looking at you for a long time, I contemplate you without anxiety, nothing disturbs this interest, you steal my attention with the laugh of a brave jackal, everything goes on its own, rolling, in crescendo, resisting without stopping seeing ...

And here, clinging to a useless chair, I can only witness how your talent as a woman invades this place; They all came and went, they all surrendered and now I too, we are like hares for your sensual artillery ...

I stop at your lips painted with stories; your mouth opens and seems to invite the enjoyment of a virile caress.

Your gaze shows the truth of a soul accustomed to waiting safely while desires ride in stealth on an almost naked body ... I wonder what that distracted gaze hides; And that pose of yours, what does it suggest? What fires were put out in those ruby ​​embers, what burned before and still burns silently and does not stop beating?

Makes me want to play the game of love with you, the two of us, just the two of us shaking the bed on a long Sunday afternoon. To stay there close to you and awaken from lethargy all your sins, insisting without breaking the stillness of your secrets to drown us together in the murmur of time repeating the cycle of sweat over and over until the last groan.

L.L. - 2021-10--17

Speak to me softly ...

Talk to me softly that the rain is warm and has begun to soak you.

Talk to me softly with the touch of your body advancing on mine.

Speak softly to me from that coral window.
Speak to me in whispers like a beautiful Helena.
Climb up my chest with your fine siren song.
Speak softly to me in a way that silence reaches my ears.
Come so slowly that the voice dies down in my throat.
Speak softly to me with words that slide on my lips.
Speak to me without pauses with the most daring melody.
Dance like a boat to the rhythm of a raging river, take my breath away.
Kill me with blows, talk to me softly.
I, who am thirsty,
I will kiss the fallen flower in my mouth while the rain gets wet this late summer.

L.L. - 2021-05--05

Wishes…

There is a road ahead still to be traveled, you already know that ...

That transparency, that half-naked of subtle provocation have stopped my watch. After all, we have left behind the simple and vigorous games of youth, now it is about loving each other with imagination using all the senses: touching, looking at, smelling each other and tasting each other's flavors.

Here I am left with these desires that escape without being able to contain them. These desires that grow randomly like wildflowers in the field from where a rainbow leaves towards you carrying the colors of all my desires ... I long to hear your serene voice. I long to learn to guess each one of your gestures, to see closely your zigzagging and nervous glances; and beyond, knowing what you smell like every afternoon when you are back.

Here are still intact the desire to touch all your beauty with feathered fingers moved by the sweet melody of a serenade; of exploring you blindly without leaving any void; of getting together completely at dawn; of sinking into you to the limits while you hug me and I kiss you.

Lugh Landrus

Silent night

The usual darkness has come;
the alleys are again filled with a faint serene.
Cold in the boulevard
and the naked breeze
flies like a witch to meet it ...

Here, the cups resent your departure;
only the imprints of your crimson lips
have remained in the glass,
and the dew from the cold water
serves as a curtain to your last kiss.

After all,
tonight
it will be just a memory;
just a distant memory,
a souvenir from the past.

Now the silence invades everything
goodbye is done.

I wait for you…

I wait for you here

sitting on this long pier

while the reddish afternoon

and the warm breeze that still remains

bring your memory.

I wait for you like I do every afternoon,

although you may not come,

I wait for you the same,

Like I promised

You are still here,

somehow,

on my skin painted with your repeated friction;

on my lips that never dry;

in my dreams that have not fainted.

I wait for you here

in your sea,

in these same waters that we swim together

and in which we drowned so many secrets.

It will be hard to come home

without your hands hanging from my arm,

without your usual simple questions,

without your silences waiting for a wink from me.

Maybe you won't come

but I wait for you ...

I always wait for you.

Lugh Landrus

Redemptive dreams

The nights get long if I try to forget you, that's why your memories are still here, in my soothing dreams, that's why I imagine you without the slightest sense, I imagine you in every part of your house, in every piece of furniture that fills your rooms; I have imagined you sitting there or in your bed, lying down dozing or waking up on a summer morning between light clothes.

Your absence is so strange to mine, your loneliness so different from mine, yours should not be pitiful or lacking in the other, rather it should be the other loneliness, the one that makes you free, free of everything, owner of everything . That loneliness that makes you walk at ease without modesty, without anyone in between who can look at you or want to do it, as I wish.
That's why I dream of you, to imagine you free; therefore these dreams, redemptive dreams.

Lugh Landrus - 2020

Look at you

I want to look at you a little more;
like this, with your disheveled hair,
with your most recent scent
and your feet tired of running;
with your sweaty skin,
full of road
and that fresh laugh of a woman ...

In the best place of yours ...

I am heading like a fine arrow with a known destination,

I walk the difficult roads that lead me to your heart,

and in flight, I wonder:

Will there be some warm and quiet space for me,

a place where I can make a bed,

stay there the time of my luck

to make new secrets together?

Could I walk barefoot and walk naked

slide while I can and,

between the wet stream of your passing blood,

take refuge at times in your favorite hiding places?

What if I get used to

at that strange rhythm full of hope,

to your empty spaces full of life,

to the red magic enclosed between fragrant walls,

to the transparent streams,

to the sunrises without loneliness or sadness,

at dawn fed up with caresses,

to nights ended in mutual ravings,

to your lovely cavities,

to your silent desires?

And if, after all, I am left clinging to the fear of a breathless ending?

Lugh Landrus - 2020