Jamaica

I knew the moment you smiled at me
We locked eyes
And I returned your smile shyly
I’d see you again

You come back the next day
I lay on your table
Melting under your warm touch
You slowly undress
Caress and tease
I loll in the cool Jamaican breeze
You slip off my pants
Stroke my thighs
Invite me to dance
To the hum of the tides
In your personal yoga retreat
Massage therapy

I sneak out like a rebellious adolescent
Climbing the fence at night
Walk the wooden plank into your world
I don’t know where I am
I shouldn’t be here

You guide me through my fears
Gently grabbing my hand
We make love in your gym
A weight bench
A massage table
A parrot watching us with disapproval

You light up a joint
I lay basked in fluorescent nakedness
A foreigners bliss
A Jamaican fling
An accent so thick
I can’t understand a thing
A connection of the eyes
The smile is inviting

Your beautiful skin enticing
I caress your wounds
Unravel your stories
Your bullet holes and glories
Explore your past
Knowing this will not last
I make notes on your skin
Remembering
Etching into my story
Transient passion
Glorious sin

You drive me home at dawn
I pretend like I haven’t gone
Sneak in smiling
At my secret
The yoga retreat carries on
Yet your name creeps into my song
My experience

I’m in Jamaica for one more night
But I’ll remember that massage
For the rest of my life

Lamma

Anticipation. I navigate the hectic, crowded streets of Hong Kong Central. Tourists and business men alike plough through the incessant traffic. Bodies run into me as I seek a ferry escape to the nearby island of Lamma. After navigating the complex, impassable streets of the Central Business District, I gratefully board a ferry to an unknown destination, a village name, and cross my fingers I’m headed the right way. Such is life. Continue reading “Lamma”

Silence

Yes, I know, I stopped writing. I’ve started countless posts that I’ve abandoned halfway through. I went to Greece with the passionate intention to write about my experience, it’s just that, I’m not sure how to verbalize it, how to share it. I arrived in Leros and jumped into an exciting, emotional, overwhelming, and sad tornado that consumed me until the moment I boarded a tiny plane back to Athens. It’s taken me a few weeks of aimlessly wandering around Europe to sort it all out. Continue reading “Silence”

POC, Refugee, Resident

Seemingly, everyone I’ve met since landing in Athens has an opinion about the refugee crisis in Greece – locals, Uber drivers, NGO’s, police, and refugees themselves. Opinions are freely shared with me once I disclose what I’m doing here (teaching yoga in a refugee camp) and I listen, hesitating to form an opinion until I’ve had my own experience on the island of Leros, my home for the next month or so. Continue reading “POC, Refugee, Resident”

Azola

I had already taught 2 classes, been bitten by a slobbery baby, gotten my hair pulled, braided, and tied in knots, and it’s my last kids yoga class of the day- I’m out. I finally get all the kiddos to make a circle (ten minutes later) when I feel a little hand grabbing my leg. I go to brush the hand away so I could teach, a little annoyed, and then saw the culprit. Continue reading “Azola”

Turn The Page

Today marks the end of a huge chapter in my life. A love story, really, of traveling and volunteering abroad. Three and a half years ago I quit my corporate job and moved to New York to work in nonprofit without looking back. I’ve been lucky enough to support micro finance, education, and public health projects around the world over the past three years. Continue reading “Turn The Page”

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