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. Cigarettes and Stale Beer (Camden Market) Joseph Mallord William Turner, The Garreteer's Petition, 1809 in my most comforting presence. A Sunday roast, beer I hadn’t asked for, Plans I didn’t make. within vague familiarity, I feel at ease. It shouldn’t console me. Shouldn’t be a place of solace. Shouldn’t kindle nostalgia. It should be perturbing. Should be a thing of fear. Should incite reminiscence. But it makes me want to stay— makes me comfortable with the discomfort. — 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 The Boy on the Bus (31 Westbound) "He knows not / something to compare." 02.2025 Primrose Hill "Dismay— / and truly being alone." 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

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. Get in Touch with Moon Prose Whether you have a question, want to commission a poem, or just want to say hello, I'd love to hear from you. You can reach me via email, Instagram, or mail. First name* Last name Email* Phone **If you'd like to provide your phone number, please select your country code first, then enter your phone number without spaces or dashes. Message* Submit Instagram: @moonprosedreams **Pricing is flexible and varies based on factors such as length, complexity, and your time frame. Once you submit your request, we’ll discuss all the details via email to ensure the final piece meets (and hopefully exceeds) your expectations. Please allow 3–5 business days for a response, and check your spam folder regularly. If you have not heard from me after 3–5 business days, kindly resubmit your request. Email: moonprosedreams@gmail.com P.O. Box: 668996, Miami, Fl, 33166

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. Where The Sky Ends Luis Ricardo Phalero, Estrella Polar, 1885 Falling, like the Draconids. Quickly, then burning out before they really mature. Before they see the world for what it truly is. When to say, “I surrender”? Should you surrender? For your craft— Will I owe it to her? The young one with big eyes And virtually no idea of why anything has come to be? They’re too fast, those meteors, caring not for how the world turns. Which direction, how slowly. It’s all the same in Death’s pale eye, a cold October, when he comes to collect your pride, and all you’re left with is flesh and bone. For he takes the soul as well, of course, and there are no more dreams. There is no fall back. Simply hope—to catch yourself in the dragonfly’s way when he finds a landing. But Death has not taken my gift yet, no, not yet. And I am prideful. Beyond belief. Snuffing my desire, my flame, blinding me, thieving of my last breath is not what it takes for me to see the light. In this way, should the moon be unattainable, then you shall fall upon a star. — A.M. Sención 12.2024 This writing is my original work. Do not reproduce without permission. Explore more Nostalgia's Blade "And He’ll remember what it was like to love." 10.04.2024 Soulmate “I was made of a piece of you, / and you of me.” 2023 Simply, I Love You “…the hue of those spring-growth eyes,” 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. I Can Serge Ivanoff, The violinist, 1893-1983 Doubt no further, For what is there to? His accomplishments are not mine own, and so, they shall never be. Does this, then, make me unworthy? A piece of paper with a title? Or lack thereof Is my mind incapable of such arts? That which, coming from him, would be no less striking than from my hand? Perhaps even less so. Misunderstand not, for I am not better; but to exist on the same plane should not feel like a crime, something to be exiled for, or something to make me feel fraudulent when all the difference lies in ink and paper. — A.M. Sención 2024 This writing is my original work. Do not reproduce without permission. Explore more Nostalgia's Blade "And He’ll remember what it was like to love." 10.04.2024 Soulmate “I was made of a piece of you, / and you of me.” 2023 How Life Loves "...meant to be soft / in a world that moves me with calloused hands." 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. Anatomy Of A Lover Mark Arian, Lovers, 1976 Those eyes are my own personal sea; blue and briny water compressing around me, calming my worries while calling me in deeper. But I am not afraid, not of these eyes, not of these oceans. For I am not afraid to drown in them, not afraid of letting the water fill my lungs. Because I know I will see these eyes again in my next life. Whatever comes thereafter. Those hands are my mountains. Lifting me higher than ever, until the thinning air makes my head spin. A single-fingered stroke across the expanse of my thigh is all it would take for my desire to climb the summit becomes unbearable. Like my seas, I am not afraid to give in. No, not these mountains—I won’t anticipate the fall. That back is my sky; broad and mighty, there for me to reach for, grazing my fingers along its clouds. Gracious, and those lips, my favorite rose. They’re the endlessness of the Cosmos that tempt you and envelop you like nothing before. Addictive, and explosive like the death of a star. The brown locks are my personal favorites. They’re my own galaxy filaments I get to pull at as if I were responsible for it all; his Maker Divine. Silky and thick, I’ll tug and caress, carrying him into a slumber where he’ll dream of my face and the taste of my lips. The anatomy of my lover is simple, though perhaps it not be so after prudent consideration. He is my Universe. Where his eyes are both my waters and my stars, his palms are my forests and temple to be lost in, his neck my Great Wall for scattered kisses. Like bare feet on Terra firma is my head on his chest. Like hearing the Earth’s breath and the thump of its life. Inside me, we are one. There, I lose myself. I’ll admit, I become vulnerable, but is this not inevitable? For inside me, we are souls inseparable. I am his, pridefully so. Willingly do I surrender, entangled in our nakedness, fearless, at the mercy of each other’s hearts. Soon, his face will find my unveiled breasts, and there he’ll lie, with dreams of tender whispers. In the darkest of nights and brightest days, I’ll surrender. Surrender to the anatomy of my lover. Until there is nothing again. Stillness—no shapes or forms, gases or planets, matter or energy. — A.M. Sención 2021 This writing is my original work. Do not reproduce without permission. Explore more Wish It Wouldn't Bleed "Should it hurt more to grieve if the lover was fair?" 12.26.2024 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

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. Cognizance William Adolphe Bouguereau, Nature's fan - Girl With Child, 1881 What is loss of innocence? Realizing your grandfather isn’t as wise as you thought he was? Or the sky not as blue as it used to be? Was it finding a reason to check Halloween treats? The slug’s curious squirming; Or the wonder, now ameliorated, upon Man’s reenactment. Maybe the flickering light at the end of the bar, and the way it made you feel when he left. Forget the light; and when you’ve turned big and bad to old eyes which once held a warmth that shamed the sun? And it’s wrong if you decide to hang on to it, But you’re damned if you don’t; then it’s: “Who do you think you are?” So, behind closed doors, my mother’s doll still sits on linen. — A.M. Sención 2024 This writing is my original work. Do not reproduce without permission. Explore more I Can “…when all the difference lies in ink and paper.” 2024 Anatomy Of A Lover “Surrender / to the anatomy of my lover.” 2021 The Devil's angel "Men who feel love / never lack a good heart, / so I wished my soul bound to his. " 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. Peaches Francesco Hayez, Il bacio, 1859 Sweeter than the peach that blooms at the halt of rejuvenating springs and into the advent of golden summers. None can compare to what I have; not the melodies the rufous nightingale may carry or the scintillating bursts of dawn as the sun wakes. To consider it subjective that you are for me, and I for you, is illogical; for this is plainly and distinctly fact, on display for anyone to see for themselves. Fear threatens this with each new day, and naturally the Insecurity who is a fit companion to it; fears of familiarizing within ourselves too much, or contrarily, knowing too little. Letting apprehension make us sick for days that see no end. Doubting abilities that satisfy our souls, each other, our minds. But must we let that be stronger than this? This of which I speak so proudly of. Like the welcoming tree under which we sit, offering shade in July’s unforgiving heat; where no one can find us and the grass is greener everywhere while the open skies sing. Or perhaps it is like those peaches. Our love: the sweetest peach, the mellifluous nightingale, the vast and most blissful plains scattered in wild indigos, lupines, and Queen Anne’s lace. Yes, this Love. Merciless, Chaotic, and so irresistibly Desirous. — A.M. Sención 2021 This writing is my original work. Do not reproduce without permission. Explore more At The Mercy Of Love “The only true fear that possesses me is / that of having you no longer.” 2023 Exchange Between Heathen And Believer "As do I." 11.2024 Anatomy Of A Lover “Surrender / to the anatomy of my lover.” 2021

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 Boy on the Bus (31 Westbound) Robert Ladbrooke, Wood Scene, 1806 He knows not something to compare. His cries would be the same where he stands as they would be in years yet to unfold. And his mother’s face does not change in day or night. — 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 Cigarettes and Stale Beer (Camden Market) "...it makes me want to stay—" 02.2025 Oxford Street "...the uncertainty is welcome, / the chasm in my heart, a savory pain." 02.2025