Welcome to Moon Prose This is where I share my poetry— each piece is a reflection of my love for the human experience and the boundless depths of creativity. At Moon Prose, I offer writing commissions, crafting personalized poems for any occasion; each commissioned piece is tailored to your vision, designed to capture and express your unique story. Moon Prose is a space for dreamers, romantics, and those who find inspiration the littlest things. Break of Dawn (London, February, 2025)

Welcome to Moon Prose This is where I share my poetry— each piece is a reflection of my love for the human experience and the boundless depths of creativity. At Moon Prose, I offer writing commissions, crafting personalized poems for any occasion; each commissioned piece is tailored to your vision, designed to capture and express your unique story. Moon Prose is a space for dreamers, romantics, and those who find inspiration the littlest things. The Burden Jean-Léon Gérôme, La Vérité sortant du puits armée de son martinet pour châtier l'humanité, 1896 To crave I’m meant to— and secretly, he wants that too. To be desired, to be needed. Though once it is in his hands, he panics. is overwhelmed, when I am the one balancing society and a home. My longing is an inconvenience, however. And all it is for is to be accepted, to feel safe to be candid, unfiltered, to fall apart and not be chary to succumb to the task. a deepened presence that makes it okay to sleep a presence that leads in trust rather than power. rather than control Because there is no softness in power, and they both yearn for tenderness— one to give and the other to receive; even this is without an owner When he steadied, she found peace, and in her peace, he found his own. Held. Seen. Cherished. Unashamed. Protected. Heard. When there were no more butterflies and he— unassumingly, humbly, unpretentiously— asked her to surrender. Not for his sake, but her own. She did. And here she simply was. He cared not for performance. Loudness— but he did for holding a space where her femininity was preserved and untouched. Inviolable. Chaste. He cares so deeply for building something with the only person it makes sense to do so with, that validation from the outside holds no significance, his essence is unyielding in the face of prejudice, and there is no hunger to reign. His ego remains intact in the absence of either. Satiated by her purity and righteousness— which he never mistakes for meekness. Here he is strong enough for the both of them. He does not flinch. is not threatened by her confidence, or her awareness of her worth. Rather than trying to challenge it, he does it all to meet the standard. Rooted by the goodness he knows lies within her, and radiates loud enough to brighten a room. Stern in resolve and bearing, all the while soft in his gaze toward her. built of discipline and fairness, a steadfast guardian and guide. Still. Clear. Himself. She knows what her body is asking of her, and under the darkness of the skies, as does he— even when words lacked. But I was told I was unlovable. I am unlovable, and in this feminine rage there is a war behind my eyes. I am unlovable, and trust is fictitious, at least when pride is involved to feed his lust for a throne. My father always prided himself on raising a Valkyrie over an angel anyway. — A.M. Sención 05.31.2025 This writing is my original work. Do not reproduce without permission. Explore more The Devil's angel "Men who feel love / never lack a good heart, / so I wished my soul bound to his. " 2024 Who She Is "She calls it passion / when it’s merely madness." 10.02.2024 How Life Loves "...meant to be soft / in a world that moves me with calloused hands." 2024

Welcome to Moon Prose, a sanctuary of creative expression and timeless inspiration. As a passionate writer and artist, I specialize in crafting custom poetry and personalized writing commissions that bring your stories to life. Rooted in literary artistry, my work draws from a deep love of art, music, and the written word. "Till the gossamer thread you fling catch somewhere, O my soul." ― W. Whitman See more

Welcome to Moon Prose This is where I share my poetry— each piece is a reflection of my love for the human experience and the boundless depths of creativity. At Moon Prose, I offer writing commissions, crafting personalized poems for any occasion; each commissioned piece is tailored to your vision, designed to capture and express your unique story. Moon Prose is a space for dreamers, romantics, and those who find inspiration the littlest things. Gallery

Welcome to Moon Prose This is where I share my poetry— each piece is a reflection of my love for the human experience and the boundless depths of creativity. At Moon Prose, I offer writing commissions, crafting personalized poems for any occasion; each commissioned piece is tailored to your vision, designed to capture and express your unique story. Moon Prose is a space for dreamers, romantics, and those who find inspiration the littlest things. Primrose Hill Charles Allston Collins, May, in the Regent's Park, 1851 Serenity is the birds in the trees with colors I’d never known, against a most saddened landscape. Bruised mauves, ghosted gold.. I had not known solitude either— for all its weary grief— could be so rich; was what I needed most: an unsettled feeling that lies upon your lungs like Tartini’s devil, a world both dead and ancient. Serenity is the stillness, where just beyond lies chaos, and nothing but, tucked in bed like a child. Serenity, this bliss, is an unexpected visit at the bookshop. Had I met her eye, she’d have known our lover. it is frozen fingers that bleed, and teary eyes, and thousands of miles from all I have known. Dismay— and truly being alone. Serene — A.M. Sención 02.2025 This writing is my original work. Do not reproduce without permission. Explore more Poems of February 2025 "I have conversed with the spiritual sun. I saw him on Primrose Hill." -B Oxford Street "...the uncertainty is welcome, / the chasm in my heart, a savory pain." 02.2025 Braveheart (Montague Street) “...siempre demasiado lejos de mí.” 04.07.2025

Welcome to Moon Prose This is where I share my poetry— each piece is a reflection of my love for the human experience and the boundless depths of creativity. At Moon Prose, I offer writing commissions, crafting personalized poems for any occasion; each commissioned piece is tailored to your vision, designed to capture and express your unique story. Moon Prose is a space for dreamers, romantics, and those who find inspiration the littlest things. Oxford Street Joseph Mallord William Turner, High Street, Oxford, 1810 How far to go. The stumbling, drunken man will be no different at home, as he mumbles of a god even he is unsure can save him. The streets are brighter here and twice as busy yet somehow calmer; and I don’t have to remember to move my feet. How can this be? It is no paradise. Trading one city for another— It should be no different. But it is. The people can still be mean, no less selfish. Still, I remain willingly ignorant of even this; perhaps it is the lights. And I despise the home I miss most. Perhaps it is Solitude’s companion— A healthy presence when it is not abundant. But in these lights, the uncertainty is welcome, the chasm in my heart, a savory pain. It is the white breath from my lips that reminds me I am alive. — A.M. Sención 02.2025 This writing is my original work. Do not reproduce without permission. Explore more Poems of February 2025 "I have conversed with the spiritual sun. I saw him on Primrose Hill." -B Same Nature (Hampstead Heath) "We are not meant to be alone." 02.2025 Cigarettes and Stale Beer (Camden Market) "...it makes me want to stay—" 02.2025

Welcome to Moon Prose This is where I share my poetry— each piece is a reflection of my love for the human experience and the boundless depths of creativity. At Moon Prose, I offer writing commissions, crafting personalized poems for any occasion; each commissioned piece is tailored to your vision, designed to capture and express your unique story. Moon Prose is a space for dreamers, romantics, and those who find inspiration the littlest things. Paraíso Jean-Eugène Buland, Bonheur des parents, 1903 Tal vez no sea el paraíso que hubiésemos imaginado, en algún otro mundo. Quizá tampoco lo sea para los pequeños, amor. Igual acá estamos. Llorando, riendo, gritándole al cielo por una respuesta que, lo más probable, nos deje tan vacíos como no tenerla. Sea como sea, eres el sol entrante mi ventana a primera hora. El café perfecto al comenzar. Espero con ansias cada mirada que viene de ti, y la ternura que traes rozando mi espalda. Al parecer, me pasó días a la vez soñando despierta, cariño. El momento en que diseñemos nuestra familia, y nos unan ante los ojos de Dios. Rey de mi corazón serás por siempre. De mis manos, mi pecho, mis ojos, mi cuerpo, pensamiento. Quisiera darte lo que no tengo; la luna que me pidas. Y así será siempre. Seré compañera, esposa, tu dulce de coco, Tu paraíso privado. — A.M. Sención 01.15.2022 This writing is my original work. Do not reproduce without permission. Explore more Who She Is "She calls it passion / when it’s merely madness." 10.02.2024 Inescapable Daydream “Nevertheless, you are mine.” 2021 Wish It Wouldn't Bleed "Should it hurt more to grieve if the lover was fair?" 12.26.2024

Welcome to Moon Prose This is where I share my poetry— each piece is a reflection of my love for the human experience and the boundless depths of creativity. At Moon Prose, I offer writing commissions, crafting personalized poems for any occasion; each commissioned piece is tailored to your vision, designed to capture and express your unique story. Moon Prose is a space for dreamers, romantics, and those who find inspiration the littlest things. Who She Is Manuel Ocaranza, La Flor Muerta, 1868 No, she’s too much, and you shouldn’t let her. She’s quite chatty— I’m not sure if I like that. And her heart Oh, that pitiful thing. Why does she love that way? Has she no mind for what she says? It’s pathetic, that kind of devotion, that form of submission, as if the stars shine brighter to her eyes. Don’t let her get too close, she’ll never let you leave. Or, alternatively, push you far enough away that you’ll forget her name and the way her smile grew when she spoke of it. Lover of life. Lover of love. She’s far too much. And it’s rather discomfiting. She calls it passion when it’s merely madness. — A.M. Sención 10.02.2023 This writing is my original work. Do not reproduce without permission. Explore more Cadence “…in the end, they still ask how I am.” 2024 Where The Sky Ends "In this way, / should the moon be unattainable, then you shall fall upon a star." 12.2024 At The Mercy Of Love “The only true fear that possesses me is / that of having you no longer.” 2023

Welcome to Moon Prose This is where I share my poetry— each piece is a reflection of my love for the human experience and the boundless depths of creativity. At Moon Prose, I offer writing commissions, crafting personalized poems for any occasion; each commissioned piece is tailored to your vision, designed to capture and express your unique story. Moon Prose is a space for dreamers, romantics, and those who find inspiration the littlest things. Same Nature (Hampstead Heath) The Great Day of His Wrath, John Martin, 1851-1853 In the midst of a burning desire for isolation. Long plains that see nothing but hilltops, an eerie silence; we are still incomplete. Our nature was not nurtured in empty rooms. Cared for in loneliness. There, we do not burgeon. From impatience, a trip which should have lasted longer, a coffee stained mug we can’t get rid of, births this incessant Need. Yet still, in busy hands we return— with an uncertain heart, and more questions than we began with. Listen now to my string. We are not meant to be alone. Not in this time, or the next. — A.M. Sención 02.2025 This writing is my original work. Do not reproduce without permission. Explore more Poems of February 2025 "I have conversed with the spiritual sun. I saw him on Primrose Hill." -B Braveheart (Montague Street) “...siempre demasiado lejos de mí.” 04.07.2025 The Boy on the Bus (31 Westbound) "He knows not / something to compare." 02.2025

Welcome to Moon Prose This is where I share my poetry— each piece is a reflection of my love for the human experience and the boundless depths of creativity. At Moon Prose, I offer writing commissions, crafting personalized poems for any occasion; each commissioned piece is tailored to your vision, designed to capture and express your unique story. Moon Prose is a space for dreamers, romantics, and those who find inspiration the littlest things. Simply, I Love You John Simmons, Hermia and Lysander. A Midsummer Night's Dream, 1870 I love you infinitely. My first thought of the day, my last thought at night, and nearly every thought in between. What I wouldn’t give to be lost in the hue of those spring-growth eyes, the shade of the blades of grass in the vast pastures we only dream of skipping through, for the rest of my life. I would not want anyone else, Beloved. — A.M. Sención 2023 This writing is my original work. Do not reproduce without permission. Explore more Peaches “Sweeter than the peach / that blooms at the halt of rejuvenating springs,” 2021 Where The Sky Ends "In this way, / should the moon be unattainable, then you shall fall upon a star." 12.2024 Cadence “…in the end, they still ask how I am.” 2024