Tag: poems

Amours d’Été

When i dream of you
my back tenses
my heart aches
i can’t help but take
a moment
to picture your lips,
my finger entwined
in the depths of your curls
a sigh
a smile
a safety
a longing
a love…

barely breathing
a shaky acknowledgement
of our deepest
desire
i can feel your
softness, your warmth
on me, around me,
against me, within me
so many versions of you
to undress and
impress

you and i
are birds of a feather
both black and unassuming
but radiant in the light
i see your colours
and i long to paint them
on my canvas and my heart
with my tongue
my fingers
my gentle love
focus for a moment
and feel me
pressed against you
soft breasts
warm bellies
gentle touches
trembling thighs
a sensory feast
at your fingertips
dance with me
sway, sway
let the rhythm guide
the slow motions
of our explorations

i dream of you
like one longs for
warm beaches
and sunset serenades
you occupy my thoughts
but you’re not a dream
you’re raw fire,
complexity fueled by beauty
of mind and spirit
a sibling of softness
too rarely held
in strong arms

we only exist
inside the darkness
of my mind
but to me,
you are the light;
even my fantasy can’t
dim your brightness
you’re electric
eclectic
filled with life
hiding just beneath
the surface
some days,
i’m so in love with you
it hurts
to breathe
a lump in my throat
a pit in my stomach
a whisper in my mind

more than anything
i want to hold you
up above the clouds
help you shine
brighter than the sun
i want to see you
smile wider than a cat
relax into my arms
after a long day
hear your breathing slow
against my chest
as you gently close
your eyes and drift
off to sleep
i want to discover you
while you discover
yourself;
i want to earn your
heart while you
fill up your cup
with my love.

© 2026 Tashi Palmo All Rights Reserved

Whispers

she felt like home,
but my home
was a destitute palace
of mixed feelings
and misunderstandings;
how many hearts shattered
within the confines of our walls;
broken dreams
and bruised egos

another dance to be danced
without knowing how to lead;
we veered and teetered
occasionally finding our footing
in the form of hopeful futures
and faraway places

Crafting similarities
like one casts spells in the dead of night
we sought out reflections
in pools of half-truths
but like deer in headlights
we could never fully grasp
the vastness of the painting

Though heartache and held hands
we wanted to climb mountains
and break barriers
free us from ourselves,
with writhing realities biting at our heels

We burned each other at the stake
shot blame like bullets
hid in the caves of our hurt
incapable of reaching up and out
beyond the stories in our bodies

In time, perhaps we’d have seen
each other
been able to meet somewhere
in the middle
instead of losing ourselves
in the distance

© 2026 Tashi Palmo All Rights Reserved

Recovery and rebirth

It’s been a hot minute since I’ve published anything here, and I am finally taking the leap to choose faith over fear and to integrate all sides of my life into one.

Letters for My Lovers, at its inception, was a way for me to share my writing and feel a little less alone in the world at a time when I was feeling a crushing sense of isolation and loss. I was alienated from myself in ways that I could barely understand, and sharing this secretive part of my life was a source of great healing and joy for me. It made me feel alive and part of a community of writers and poets who, like me, had something to share with the world.

From the very beginning, my pen name was fraught with contradictions I knew would eventually catch up to me. Although I shared vulnerable things with the world, doing it behind the guise of an erotic, empowered “sex-witch” persona meant that I could hide behind something familiar. Lilith was always my armour, the part of me that kept me safe from having to show my sensitive gooey core and acknowledge the depths of my own humanity.

I held onto this blog like a blankie, and through all my trials and tribulations, I couldn’t let it go because I knew someday I would want to publish the poems I’d written here under my real name.

In 2023, my life shifted in the most unexpected way. My long-time relationship had an implosion of sorts, and within a week of that, I learned through a random DNA test that the man who had raised me wasn’t my biological father. I won’t go into too many details, but needless to say, my life (which was already rife with trauma) got turned upside down overnight. Shortly thereafter, I checked myself into an addiction treatment centre and began my journey of recovery from active addiction and refocusing my energies on healing the complex trauma that has always inhabited me.

In the years since, I’ve grown into a version of myself that feels closer to home than anything I’ve experienced before. I’m living a life filled with authenticity, in accordance with my values and principles, and I work hard every day to appreciate the privilege of rebuilding myself as a human being and of living my passions.

I have written countless poems since I last published anything here, and am working on figuring out how to keep these multiple sides of myself out and available. There will most likely be changes to this site in the coming months. I have yet to figure out whether to retire Lilith completely and begin publishing under my real name, or keep my poetry linked to her, since she is an essence of me, but I am overjoyed to be in a position where I’m no longer afraid to integrate Lilith into who I am today and continue to share my poetry with the world.

More to come soon, but in the meantime, you can learn a bit more about me here.

Eager to meet you all again. <3

Xo – Tashi

Becoming You

sometimes I wish
I could paint my feelings
like Picasso painted his portraits
inaccurate renditions of
something so beyond our reach
that mortal eyes falter
intricacies unbeknownst

to say “I love you”
would be an affront to the universe
for love, as a disarray of synapses
pales in the face of
the void of my feelings

a pull deeper than the tides,
a light, brighter than a harvest moon
a delicacy sweeter than honey;
reality infused with
more magic than witchcraft

days merge and blend
swirling into a steady lifetime
of morning smiles
and afternoon delights
your love, like a community garden
overflows with abundance
a cornucopia of simple being
upon which I gratefully feast

© 2021 Tashi Palmo All Rights Reserved

Strange Times

Dear readers,

No matter where you may be in the world, chances are, we can currently relate to each other’s feelings.

Let’s be blunt: this shit is scary. I can personally admit that having a global pandemic, with the rampant fear-mongering and misinformation that has accompanied it, is, for many many reasons, as close to my living nightmare as any situation could get.

The world is grinding to a halt, and hundreds of thousands, if not millions of people will die worldwide. Millions of people will lose their jobs, and world economies as we know them may very well collapse. The list goes on… Many things are going to change, and the truth is that we don’t really know what the post-pandemic world is going to look like; many people have predictions, some more realistic than others, but right now we’re helplessly floating around in the giant sea of the unknown, and I know many of us feel totally and utterly lost.

I can’t speak for what will change in the upcoming months and years, but I can surmise that one very real thing won’t change: Us. Humans, living, breathing members of the Homo sapiens sapiens species. The inherent elements that bind us together as a species and have kept our societies running since the dawn of our era: love, compassion, understanding, passion, curiosity, solidarity, and all them incredible things that make us so unique.

We will continue loving one another, appreciating the little things in life, like the ring of someone’s laughter in our ears, the warmth that we feel in another’s smile, the burning desire when we hold our lover close. We will continue inspiring one another to keep on keeping on, to continue creating and appreciating art, music, creativity in whatever form it takes on for you. We will continue being present for those who matter the most in our lives, because that’s what life is really about, love and friendship, and partnership, and appreciation, and sharing all of those incredible things we so often struggle to put into words.

I, for one, will keep on creating and sharing my poetry and stories with the world because it’s my way of staying sane and keeping my life moving forward without giving into the total and utter panic that washes over me in waves.

You are not alone, we are not alone. We can weather this storm together, as societies, and as a species, and come out wiser on the other side. So let’s all take a moment to appreciate the little things and share some love (within reasonable social distancing measures, of course 😉).

And if you would like me to write a poem about a specific topic, or have a fun writing exercise you’d like to try with me, please shoot me an email at info@lilithember.com, and I will be happy to oblige. I will be writing from the comfort of my Love Nest, featured as the image of this article.

In love, lust, and solidarity,

Lilith. 🖤

So you want Sexy Poems?

For you, my reader,
I spread the pages of my soul,
I dip the tip of my tongue
In the forbidden ink of divine intervention.
A lost soul longing for a set of lips,
To kiss, lick, suckle to my heart’s content.

A tickle of a button
So soft it could make a feather tremble,
A breath caught between two sheets;
One second, two, three?
A gasp!
Air rushing through inflamed lungs,
Tiny beads of sweat dangling
On skin as soft as lips
Caressing freshly painted nails.

For you, my reader,
I explore long lost caves
Forsaken by the gods;
Heathen sanctuaries
Of nymphs, sprites, and fairies
I penetrate sacred grounds,
Document my stories
With tale after tale,
Stroke after stroke
Of my pen on shaking parchment.

A trusting hand,
Curling inside forbidden fruit;
A pressure so pure
It parts the sky with its lust.
The surrender…
Sweet delight, like hydromel;
Nectar of the gods.
Even they are unworthy
Of the delicacy, that is you.

© 2020 Tashi Palmo All Rights Reserved

Bring Me Back

The perfect drizzle
defines the line between today and tomorrow
A morose specimen,
far too endearing to share with our peers
peers out of its receptacle;
a chill destroys its resolve
“if only pigs could fly,
then I’d get myself out of this darned mess.”
It thinks, unwillingly.

The home of a collector
is not to be taken lightly
on days where the sun’s power dwindles
and the comings of months of death
appear on the horizon.

One step at a time,
it creeps, occasionally lurching
towards a white cover of bliss.
Brought back to the silence
of a city’s breath drawn again
when a cloak of winter descends
leaving everything amiss.

At times, when the sea of stars seems
to lose itself in the vastness of the night
I’ve often longed to hear crisp footsteps,
ones I’ve dreamt of ad nauseam;
despite the harsh and cruel winter,
they echo the sound of my love’s path
finally finding its way back
into the warmth of my tender embrace.

© 2019 Tashi Palmo All Rights Reserved

Fabricated Sorrow

What is it, about being a woman
that drives us, to feel lust
nay, neediness, longing, expectations
of the opposite sex
to WANT, to need, to succumb
to loving us?

It’s like taking the first hit;
wanting every moment
to inevitably feel like the next.
A drug of the heart, a survivalist’s wet dream,
suddenly the nightmare of the other.

I loathe the void I’ve created
within the absence you’ve brought;
the coward who parades around
as a hearty lion, navy suit astounding
the driver of slumber long deceased
brought back to life in a dusty dream.

Nothing is everything,
it all resonates like bass hitting a temple
wishing for change, but unwilling to understand;
the dance slowly dies
as the reality of one love lost
bites the dust, of poetic abstinence.

Heed a lonely cry, in the distance
a single ring on a finger
symbolism of something so untrue
it might as well be dead.

I’ll die too young
to see the fruition of your honesty.

© 2019 Tashi Palmo All Rights Reserved

Fishing in Cape Breton

Crisp
are the winds
that brought me to you
along the broken path
by the Ocean’s roar.
Jagged
were the rocks
that dangled beneath.
So close
to losing my footing
and slide
towards my demise.
Dangerous drops
rarely lead
to peaceful waters
and yet,
in all my meanderings
I failed to fall.
Rugged
was my resolve
in the hopes
that I too
could balance
on the fine line
that pushes
one foot
after the other
towards
the unknown.
Unfortunate
are those who strive
to maintain happiness
as a constant
instead of a rare pearl.
A thing
to be held close,
cherished
and observed
in moderation.
Happiness
isn’t a fish
you can catch,
but a fleeting moment.
Just breathe it in
and let it go.
Breathe me in…
And let me go.

© 2019 Tashi Palmo All Rights Reserved

A few short poems

A collection of short poems that will otherwise go unpublished, so I’m grouping them together here instead. Some of these have previously been posted to Twitter, so apologies if there is a bit of a repetition.

Half Moon Bay

The roar of the Ocean
Rules and narrow margins.
You stole my heart away
When we were in Half Moon Bay.

Morning Commute

Basic bitches in the back of the bus,
Shit sprawled all over the place.
I’ve never understood pumpkin spice lattes,
Maybe it’s the only spice they get in their lives
Future soccer moms and housewives.

(This was undeniably a morning rant)

Montreal

Ice in the night
Looks like latex
Brought to a shine
By an obedient little slave.

Submission

Subservient Subs
Surrendering Subconsciously
to Subliminal Subspace
like the Subspecies Subordinates
they long to be.

Succubus 1

Cry me your soul,
Let my hands slowly deprive you.
Oxygen fleeing, haggard existence
What does it feel like
To know that when you kiss me,
You are kissing death?

Montebello

A colourless day draws on
In cold observation of privilege
By the light of a dozen flames
Patagonia and Gucci abound
Wood, stone, and stained glass
The Succubus laughs silently
As loveless marriages melt away
On this crisp winter’s day

Melt

Time of spring
Icicles turned water
Frozen again
Time to slip

Bard Bits – Innocence

He marvelled at her innocence
Shining through in the darkness
An ethereal light amongst the shadows
Blissfully cradled in his arms
She was his angelic little slut.

Bee Mine

Darkness before dawn
A wasp flies up a mountain
Spread thighs await

Ode to a Fern

Leaning towards dying foliage
Desperate whispers part my lips
“I’ll cherish you forever.”
Fronds amiss, you sink into oblivion

Succubus 2

Create a void in me, so I lose sight
Embrace the upheaval of my thighs
Mountainous strength from beneath
As I erode myself into your world
Eager monster forsaking the gods
Devouring, until only the shell remains

© 2018 Tashi Palmo All Rights Reserved