Biografía de Miamah (Bio)
"Close your eyes and dream the dream of angels...I see your secret smile, filled with memories of past love and future passion. Now awake, my sleeping Angel, until heaven misses you too much you must sleep again." ~excerpt from "Sleeping Angel" by Miamah.		There were many things I thought might be said about me when I reached a certain level of maturity. However, being enamored of a Latin singer was not one of them!! But here I am, a devoted "Chayfan" of the first order. What defines a "Chayfan"? Well, here is the definition of one of us: I was born in Washington, D.C. of a Liberian father and an American mother. My background includes American Indian, Irish and Puerto Rican. I was brought up by my grandparents in Texas and educated at Harvard University. I am married and have one gorgeous daughter (admittedly, I am biased on the subject). For 18 years, I was a government employee, working for various Congresspeople. Now I am working on a government contract for the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA). My hobbies include singing, playing the piano and violin and reading. The inspiration for my writing is Chayanne. He is my muse. It is my honor and pleasure to share my words with you. Miamah

Contenidos (Contents)

A Work of Art

Danger Is The Key

Dream World

Everywhere

I Have Come Undone

If I Ask You ...

In The Eyes Of A Child

The Smile

My Answer

The Whole Man -- Part By Part!!!

A Joyful Noise

A Letter To My Chayfamily

I Can't Breathe

Whispers

Hello Angel

Does He Care?

Chayspeak

Look And You Will See

You Walk With Me!

You All Have Inspired Me So...

Tropical Nights

The Face Of An Angel

La Mentira - The Lie

Time Brings About A Change

Thoughts On A Sunday

If I Could Wipe My Heart Clean

Sleeping Angel

Magic Touch

Picture This

Let Me Be His World

A Little Story

He Spoke to Me

My Heart's Journal

Memories

Sweet Thang

Fool's Quest

Pleasure

In The Shadow of an Angel

Once Upon a Time

Happy Birthday, Baby

I Hear Him with my Heart

My In-Between World

Hungry?

I Love to See you Speak

A WORK OF ART

Through the ages, the Masters have graced us with unbelievable works of art. Michelangelo, van Gogh, Picasso, to name a few. Their sculptures and paintings are without equal....or so I thought. There is a new work of art that must take its rightful place among the most beautiful and admired of these works. The face of this work of art is sculpted to perfection...a narrow face, square jaw, prominent nose, intense eyes and sensuous mouth. It is the face of a Bottecelli Angel mixed with the visage of a fierce warrior. The eyes capture your soul so that you can't bear to look away. The body of this work of art is tall and well proportioned, with long legs and arms, and a chest and abdomen that are hard, muscled and cut. Notice the hands: they are large and strong, with long, sinuous fingers. His form is at once that of an athlete and a dancer. The artist has captured his essence. There is strength, danger, passion and mystery molded into the face and body. As with all the very best works of art, this one fills you with a wide range of emotions as you take in its beauty. Without question, you are captivated. You are invaded. You are overcome. You will never be the same.

This work of art is beautifully named "Chayanne". It is the work of the ultimate Master - God. It is a gift, made with love and given freely. This work of art is now on permanent exhibit in the private museum that is my heart.

DANGER IS THE KEY

I have lived all my life in safe quarters. Always the "good girl", I gave no hint of what might be hidden in my soul, locked away even from myself. And then, I was sent the "key" that would unlock my heart's desire.

Never before had anyone or anything been able to penetrate my reserve. I appeared to be quiet and no one knew what actually lay behind my eyes. The truth hidden there could be revealed only with a very special "key". Then one day last March, a man appeared. Of course, I'd seen men before in the many years I have inhabited this place. But there are men, my friends, and then there is THIS man. He is tall, dark, handsome, slim, and muscular, my key. His eyes are red-hot daggers, sending mysterious messages searing into my brain. Unused to receiving jolts of sensuality, I was a little afraid at first. And then I realized something. I like a little danger. That, you see, is my secret. It was the danger that wooed and won me, allowing my true self to emerge from its prison. It is the dangerous side of this man that continues to intrigue me.

He moves like a panther, this key to my soul. His movements are fluid, erotic, and purposeful. He moves like liquid fire. His eyes lock onto mine, daring me to accept him. He knows that to accept him would put me in danger..danger of filling my life with so much sensuality that I might be unable to handle it. But you see, I like a little danger.

His smile is disarming. When he smiles, my whole being reveals itself in my face. He leaves me vulnerable, unable to feign indifference to his magnetism. This is dangerous. But I like a little danger.

Should he reach for me with his big, strong hands, I will go to him. My feelings for him are so strong that I find I am walking on very dangerous ground. The foundation upon which my desire is building is like quicksand. I am fooled into thinking that it is solid, only to find that it is pulling me under. I do not struggle against it. Dangerous? Of course it is. But I like a little danger.

And so it took a man like this to unlock my secret self. All men before him had been too tame, too predictable, too ordinary. And now that he has looked into me and laid bare my soul, there is no turning back. I am his. Yes, I am in danger. I am in danger of losing my heart and soul to this man.

Make no mistake, though, my friends. There will be no cry for help and no protection is needed.

DREAM WORLD

I live my life in a dream world, filled with images of him. Every flower, bursting with color and sweet smells, blossoms because he exists. The gentle wind whirling in my world is his phantom hand caressing me. The sun, brilliant in my sky, is simply an imitation of his smile. There are fruits and vegetables grown to perfection and bursting with flavor, but I do not need them here because he is my sustenance. The rain keeps everything green and enables the grass and foliage here to grow to unparalleled beauty. These raindrops are my tears of joy because he is in my world and sadness because he can only live here as a dream. Birds bring songs of joy and laughter, singing with one voice that is his. The museums are filled with but one work of art and the libraries are overflowing with words about him and for him. There are classes of the heart taught here and he is the teacher, filling me with lessons about love and passions fulfilled. Choirs in the churches raise voices to heaven in thanksgiving and praise because I am so grateful to have my dream world. After all, without this place, where could I have him completely and without question or complication?

Night falls softly in my world and sleep brings secret dreams. The stars watch over me and the moon illuminates my dream smile. My dream world brings me exquisite relief from a reality where he cannot be mine. So, my friends, take a chance. Dream him into your world.

EVERYWHERE

He is everywhere. He lives in every corner of my being. If I look at my hand, I see his strong hand with beautiful long fingers. Should I decide to put lipstick on my mouth, I see his brilliant smile in the mirror before me. When I close my eyes, I see his dark, penetrating gaze. He knows. He knows the depth of my soul. He knows what I feel because he is at the core of me. I am weak from absorbing his passion. I am disoriented because he has changed every aspect of my life. I only know that I breathe him. And now that I have touched him, I can truly say that I feel him burning into my skin. All the words I hear are said with his voice. I am inundated... overwhelmed.... cocooned... enveloped... covered.... surrounded.... filled... by and with him.

Now what? Everything.

I HAVE COME UNDONE

I have come undone. For a brief moment I thought I was safe. Focused on other things, I found I could keep myself from looking at his tapes every night. Calmly I went about my daily business, actually able to think about mundane things. Believe it or not, I listened to other people's music!! I laughed and talked with my family, friends and coworkers. I was able to put his concerts into their place in my memory. Life regained some semblance of normalcy...I thought.

And then last night it all unraveled. As I looked at his face, I realized that I had created a box to hide in...afraid to face what he was doing to me. In an instant, my hiding place disappeared. I could not tear my eyes away. He moved with the grace of a panther. His eyes glanced around the crowd, absorbing the energy. His smile was brilliant and lit up the stage. When he opened his shirt to reveal the most perfect chest I have ever seen, the last vestige of my strength dissolved. I accept now that he owns me, body and soul.

I have come undone...again.

IF I ASK YOU....

If I ask you, will you dance with me? Take me in your arms and move with me to the sweet rhythm of the music. I will lay my head on your shoulder and close my eyes. You will hold my hand against your heart. And so, Angel, we dance.

If I ask you, will you talk to me? To hear my name on your lips would be so sweet. Tell me what makes you laugh or cry or what you believe in passionately. Tell me a joke or ask me one. And so, Angel, let's talk.

If I ask you, will you smile at me? Maybe something I say will amuse you. Perhaps, you will smile at your own joke. Hopefully, you will smile because seeing me makes you happy. And so, Angel, smile.

If I ask you, will you remember me? The dance will end and we will part. Maybe you will remember the warmth of my embrace. Perhaps, something I said will come to you in some unbidden moment and you will see my face. In that brief dance, maybe, just maybe, my love for you penetrated your soul. If so, Angel, remember me.

I will remember every moment. The strength of your arms around me, the smell of your hair as we danced, the sound of your voice and the radiance of your smile. I will remember it all. And so, sweet Angel, will you tell me that you enjoyed our brief moment in time.....if I ask you?

Contenidos

IN THE EYES OF A CHILD

Fame, fortune, physical perfection, moral integrity, a wonderful personality, a loving and supportive wife and family...sounds like a man who has everything, doesn't it? But for this man, something was missing and he didn't even know it until a miracle occurred in his life. Nothing he had been told in his lifetime had prepared him for this. He loved his parents and they loved him. But he didn't yet understand. He loved his siblings and they loved him. But he didn't yet understand. He loved his wife and she loved him. But he didn't yet understand. He didn't understand that there is a love so strong, it defies understanding. There is a love so unquestioning, that it eludes explanation. There is a love so intense, that it hurts. And so this perfect man, so used to being in control, found someone who makes his heart sing, his knees buckle, his hands tremble, and his resolve crumble. It is his son...his miracle from God. In the eyes of his child, he has found the real meaning of his life. Forever he will judge himself by what he sees in his son's eyes. He will see love, laughter, anger, frustration and, finally, understanding reflected in these eyes as he raises his boy to manhood. There is no more important responsibility in his life than the care of this child.

Here's to you, Chayanne, for the most important role you will ever play, a father. God bless you and keep you strong.

THE SMILE

The light is so intense that I can hardly see. I raise my hand to shield my eyes, so that I might glance around and assess my surroundings. But I cannot. All around me there is only brilliant light. I can feel it washing over me. A slow smile plays at my mouth as I feel its heat intensifying, warming me from the inside. In this light are ribbons of sound, alluring, teasing, sensual, yet reassuring. It draws me further into its center. Like a butterfly in its cocoon, I feel safe but on the threshold of a new life experience. What can this be? How can the light be so intense, yet not consume me? I have to see. I have to see. Ah, now I understand. You see, it is the twilight of the evening and the light is the Angel's smile as he transports me once again to his world.

MY ANSWER

A beautiful Chaysiser once asked if anyone understood the fire she felt inside. I felt compelled to answer:

I know what you are feeling. As the day grows closer for us to see him, my emotions are running wild. I don't understand the reason this man has come into my life with this kind of impact. I know that he came to me at a time when I needed to be reminded that I was still a beautiful women, if now of face and body, then of spirit...or maybe both. I know that the fire that he has put into my soul will not burn out, but continue to grow. I was always a strong woman, but for a long time I felt that I was "play-acting" being a woman. No longer. Not since Chayanne.

Does he know what he is doing to and for us? I don't know. What an awesome power...perhaps it is better that he doesn't fully understand the extent of his power or he might not be able to handle it.

He is magical, enchanted, ethereal, sweet, humble, sensual, sexy, intelligent....I could go on and on. He is all of this and more. I am grateful that he is in my life in some way. He always will be. My sweet friend and sister, I share your fire.

THE WHOLE MAN - PART BY PART!!!

An Angel stood before me...the sum of him was too beautiful for me to describe, so I will tell you about him part by beautiful part...

HIS HAIR is thick, black as night and in need of taming...like the man.
HIS EYES are dark brown, intense and smoldering. He can take away your will with those eyes; burn a whole in your soul with those eyes; make you laugh with those eyes; make you cry with those eyes; and make your body weak with those eyes.
HIS MOUTH is unlike any mouth I have ever seen. It is at times soft and giving. Then it can be hard and stern. In an instant, it is so sensuous you actually reach out to touch...
HIS FACE is full of angles and planes. It is a strong and beautiful face, classically handsome, like some long-ago Latin warrior.
HIS CHEST is cut and rippled with soft black hair, especially around his sweet navel.
HIS ARMS are long and strong, with fabulous muscles that let you know that you would be safe encircled within them.
HIS HANDS are strong, with long, sinuous fingers. They are big enough to encompass the waist of a small woman and strong enough to hold onto a large woman.
HIS LEGS....oh, my, his legs!!! They are long, muscled and shaped to perfection. These are the legs of a powerful man - a dancer and an athlete.

The sum of these parts make up our Angel...the most beautiful creature on earth. All parts together are an explosion to the senses; indescribable, delicious, tantalizing, mesmerizing, and intimidating. He is a vision!!

A JOYFUL NOISE

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A LETTER TO MY CHAYFAMILY

One day I saw a little movie. In it was a beautiful woman and a handsome man. I watched and enjoyed it. Then, something touched me and told me to watch it again. And so I did. And in the movie was a beautiful woman and a beautiful man. I watched and enjoyed it. Then I noticed that I couldn't put the movie away. My hand pushed the Play button on my VCR and I watched it again. In the movie this time was a beautiful woman and an ANGEL. I was astounded. How could there be an Angel in this movie? Who was he? Why couldn't I breathe? Why couldn't I move from the spot where I was sitting? Why could I only hear his voice and name in my head? WHO WAS THIS ANGEL? I needed to find out.

I searched and searched and found you, my friends. I found a group of people who also saw the Angel in this mortal man. I found a group of people who understood why and how I had lost my mind. When I cry, you comfort me. When I laugh with unbounded joy, you laugh with me. When I feel hollow and lifeless because I cannot touch him, you fill my emptiness with kindness and love. When I need to express my feelings, you listen and encourage me. You share with me every wonder of being a part Chayanne.

My Chayfamily, I appreciate and love you. I do not know how I would continue without you to turn to in good and bad times. You accept me, share with me and lift me up.

Thank you....thank you.....thank you.

Your Chaysister, Miamah

I CAN'T BREATHE.

I'm sitting at work, listening to our Angel. He is singing Fantasias and all of a sudden I can't breathe. My fingers won't obey me. I cannot work. I have to put these feelings on paper. My eyes are closed as I type this because I cannot look at my real surroundings when his voice is piercing my soul. I can see him, tall and strong, patting his thigh in rhythm as the saxaphone plays, a sly smile on his lips. Now he is singing Tu Pirata Soy Yo. He is pouring his heart into this song and tearing at mine as he does so. I can't breathe. The language is universal. It is Chayanne. I see how his lips move with each word he utters. I see the slant of his head during certain phrases. I see his outstretched hand, fingers beckoning me to come to him. Here and there he sways his hips in unspoken need. His long legs begin to move, as he becomes lost in the words he is singing, bringing him closer so that I can look into his eyes. Once more he has captured me...stopped my life for a brief time while I drank from him. Oh, I will breathe again....but I don't really want to.

WHISPERS

On soft breezes, sweet breaths, deep sighs, and rhythmic heartbeats come whispers of secret feelings. Do not speak these words. It isn't necessary. Softly, slowly, tell me your secrets. I will feel every whisper. Tell me everything and then tell me again. Send your love to me on the wind. Tell me you need me with every breath you take. Pull me to you with a sigh. Match the rhythm of your heartbeat to mine. Let your body whisper to me and I will know everything. Whisper a cloud around me and I will live within it, forever surrounded by you. I want nothing else. I need nothing else. Tell me, my love, can you whisper?

HELLO, ANGEL...

I want to talk to you. Tomorrow my friends are going to see your face, touch your hand, perhaps steal a kiss. I need you to know that I will be there, too. You won't see me or hear me, but I will be there. If you feel a gentle breeze, turn your face to it because it will be me. If you have a thought just out of reach, give in to it because it will be a message from me. Should your heart beat just a little faster than usual, be still and listen to it because it will be my spirit embracing you. If a smile plays at the corners of your beautiful lips and you don't know why, it will be me telling you a secret. Should you feel a tingling in your strong hands, it will be my hands holding yours. Look outside, Chayanne. Turn your soulful eyes toward heaven and you will feel me there. My friends are bringing my spirit to you because I want to talk to you. My soul will listen for your answer.

DOES HE CARE?

Does he care that when I see him, my heart stops beating?
Does he care that when he speaks, I hear no one else?
Does he care that when he moves, I see poetry in motion?
Does he care that when he dances, my body must move with his rhythm?
Does he care that when he sings, he soothes my very soul?
Does he care that when he looks in my direction, I am powerless?
Does he care that when he smiles, my inner being lights up with joy?

      Wait a minute....

Does he know that I care deeply for him?
Does he know that I want him to be happy?
Does he know that I pray for him daily?
Does he know that I cherish my memories of seeing him?
Does he know that I will always support him in his career?
Does he know that I feel that his talent is limitless?
Does he know that I admire his parents for doing a wonderful job of raising him to manhood?
Does he know that I thank his family for sharing him with the world?

If he KNEW, then maybe he would CARE.

CHAYSPEAK

You speak to me in a language that my very soul understands. You speak of love: the love of a woman; the love of a child; the love of your country; the love of God; and I understand. You speak of joy, happiness, sadness, longing and faith; and I understand. Your body tells me stories of passion, desire, sensuality, flirtation, and playfulness; and I understand. Your eyes have the depth of an "old soul" and in them I see strength, loyalty, and kindness as well as the fire of long-ago warriors; and I understand. I understand you, Chayanne, because you know me. You sing my life.

LOOK AND YOU WILL SEE

Look into my eyes. There you can see my soul. You will see the nights that I have held you. In my eyes, you will find the love poems written on my heart. Look into my eyes, sweet one. There you will see the passion I hold for you alone. Behold in my eyes the pain that I feel because I know you can never belong to me except in dreams. Do you know what it is like to love a ghost? Look into my eyes, precioso, and you will see.

My eyes are truly the windows to my soul. In them you will find out what it means for me to love you. Passion and fulfillment offset by longing and emptiness. Loving you fills me with contradictions. My eyes reflect this and more. When you look into my eyes you will know everything. But I know, mi amor, that you will never see me because I do not exist in your world. And so, I close my eyes, and dream my life with you.

YOU WALK WITH ME

You walk with me as I journey through this life. When I am weary, you give me strength. You give me solace when my soul cries out in pain. When I am happy, your smile is my mirror. In times of sadness, you encircle me in your magical arms. You soothe my anger with your gentle songs. When I am lonely, I feel your kisses, soft as the wings of a butterfly, assuring me that I am worthy to be loved. Whisper secrets to me on the breeze, enchanted one. Stay with me. Walk with me.

Once again, my friends, I am full of our Angel.

Contenidos

YOU ALL HAVE INSPIRED ME SO...

My Friends,

With mutual love of an Angel, we met. We danced around our friendship...wary, shy, tentative, yet hoping. And then came the words. There were words of passion born out of our mutual reactions to his sensuality. There were words of need born out of our mutual longing to know him. There were words of heat born out of our mutual desire to touch him. There were words of longing born out of our mutual understanding that he would never truly belong to us. There were words of love born out of our mutual exposure to an almost heavenly being. And then, because of those words, there came words of friendship, love and understanding...for each other. Our words, my friends, have formed a powerful and lasting bond among us. With our words, we have encouraged, supported and praised each other. We have shared laughter and tears. But, above all, we have loved each other. What a testimony to the far-reaching power of our Angel. What a testimony to this dynamic group of people who have come together because of...our words. The pen is mighty indeed.

TROPICAL NIGHTS

All things become beautiful on tropical nights. Every woman is exquisite. Every man is handsome. Add to this the strains of a Latin beat. The scene is set. On tropical nights, a love potion is the drink of choice. A dark, sweet drink is this love potion. In it are cubes of sensuality with a twist of flirtation. On tropical nights, eat of the fruit of desire. This fruit must be eaten slowly in order to enjoy its flavor. It is slightly tart, just enough to awaken any palate. The taste leaves you wanting more. On tropical nights, close your eyes and let the music and the night envelop you. Eat and drink of love and desire and then leave yourself open to the magic of the tropical night. Enchantment will be your reward.

Oh, Chayanne...to find you in my tropical night!!

THE FACE OF AN ANGEL

Contenidos

LA MENTIRA - THE LIE

One day this emotional roller coaster that I am on will no longer go round and round. The deep and heartfelt caring that I feel for the Angel will cease. I will be free from the intense, empty feeling in the pit of my stomach that nothing I do can relieve. My dreams will no longer be filled with him. I will no longer measure every man against him. His eyes will no longer hold me spellbound. His long legs will not entice me. I will have no desire to run my fingers through his thick, beautiful hair. I will no longer be enchanted by his breathtaking smile. His voice will hold no thrill for me. One day I will no longer be filled with him.

I sign this Mentirosa for that is what I am....a liar. He will always mean everything to me and that alone is the truth.

TIME BRINGS ABOUT A CHANGE...

When he was born, I was a child who thought that babies were cute and fun to play with for a little while. When he was a toddler, I was a pre-teen who found little ones with their relentless questions to be very frustrating. Then I was a teenager and he was of an age that boys are very, very annoying and certainly not worth my time. And you know what, at that age they're a little funny looking, too, don't you think?

I became a young adult and he became a teenaged boy! Now really, teenaged boys are a completely alien species, to be 'tolerated only', especially by me...at that time a brand-new adult. A teenaged boy had no life experiences, no intelligent conversation, no sense of humor, no real idea of the meaning of passion. I, on the other hand, truth be known, had...no life experiences, no intelligent converation, no sense of humor and no knowledge of real passion..but I certainly thought I did!

Time brings about a change, my friends. One day I crossed the threshold called 40 and I really was a grown-up. I looked around and noticed him, during my lifetime so far, he would have been cute, then frustrating, then annoying, then barely tolerated. Now, though, I looked at his face and saw life experiences, intelligence, passion, compassion, the ability to laugh and cry. The years between us vanished and I saw a MAN of no particular age.

This is a very special man. He doesn't know me, but he looked at me and filled me with such emotion I can hardly stand it. This boy...now MAN...offers me new life and...

I ACCEPT!!!

THOUGHTS ON A SUNDAY

Hola, my sweet Chayfamily. I just heard a message in church that touched me and made me think of our Angel. The message stated that no one is perfect...that we all have our imperfections. It led me to these thoughts:

We all feel that Chayanne is a being that is very near perfection. I know that I have said so many times on this site. But this morning I was made to realize that even Chayanne has imperfections. He is only human, after all. Think of the days, darlings, when: he is so tired he doesn't want to move; he is so lonesome for his family that he feels hollow inside; his voice is tired; his body aches; or, perhaps, he has received just one request too many for his time!! Imagine the strength of spirit and determination that it takes for Chayanne to get through these feelings and show to us the near perfect man we see performing! Chayanne is blessed, truly blessed, queridas. Not only is he blessed with talents...he is blessed with an inner strength that must be nearly superhuman. When we see him, he is, as Daisy stated, full of light. The kindness in his eyes, the radiance of his smile..those things are genuine. And then, my friends, he is blessed with us. We love him, encourage him and support him. Let us continue to do this...he needs us. Even as I speak of the magnitude of the strength he must possess to overcome his adversities, I have found yet another reason to admire him.

Truly, my Chayfamily, this man is extraordinary. I just needed to share this today.

IF I COULD WIPE MY HEART CLEAN

Contenidos

SLEEPING ANGEL

Close your eyes, my love, and dream the dream of angels. Sleep on a bed of clouds, drifting between heaven and earth. In that twilight place between waking and sleeping, dream of me. In our dreamworld, Angel, you hold me close within your gentle embrace. Your sighs cover my skin with silken songs of love. I see your secret smile, filled with memories of past love and future passion.

Now awake, my sleeping Angel, and love me in this world until heaven misses you so much you must sleep again.

MAGIC TOUCH

Your touch - like fire that lights the path to my soul to bring your love to me
Your touch - like electricity that races through my body and jumpstarts my heart
Your touch - like a tickle along the small of my back to bring a sweet smile to my face
Your touch - like a breath of wind across my eyes that awakens my inner sight
Your touch - like silk wrapping itself around my mind, guiding my every thought
Your touch - like water droplets that sooth and cool my skin, warm from you
Your touch - like moon dust that brings to life my every fantasy, my every wish
Your touch - like rarified air that enters my lungs so that I can breathe when I see you

Do you see, love, that your touch is magic? And so, I beg of you, my sweet Sorcerer, a spell. Make this magic real, just for me. And then...and then... I... can... touch...you.

Contenidos

PICTURE THIS

PICTURE THIS....
A small sigh escaped unbidden from her lips. She came to Charleston to be still. She wanted to draw into herself and hide from the complexities of "relationsbips". Of course, in spite of being very clear about this, her friends wanted her to meet someone. He is only dropping by, they insisted. Just be polite.. make small talk. She didn't know that...

...he didn't have time to meet their friends who were having "relationship" problems. He was no therapist and he was battling with his own demons. Nothing he said or did seemed to please his wife these days. And, quite frankly, he was getting tired of trying. Now he felt obligated to meet this new woman. Be nice, his friends said, she's fragile. O.K., he would stop by and say...

..."hello, it's good to meet you. How do you like Charleston so far?" Well, he thought, she is lovely. Her voice is low and sweet, like honey, he thought. He was so engrossed in listening to her speak, he almost didn't hear her say...

..."it's beautiful here. So serene and reminiscent of a time when life was less complicated." Oh my, he is strikingly handsome, she thought. And, did she hear an accent? Her friends didn't tell her he was Latin. I wonder...

...what kind of music she likes. He found himself drawn to her. He wanted to know more about her. This can't be, he told himself, you have enough problems and...

...she couldn't allow him to complicate her feelings. She couldn't stop herself from wondering what it would be like to have him hold her in his arms and dance with her. She was very vulnerable, but there was no chance of making a mistake with him because he was...

...leaving soon, he said. However, he explained, he had to stay the night since his flight had been cancelled because of storms in the area. He didn't want to intrude, he told her...he knew that she had some here to get away and be alone. He was looking forward to some quiet time himself, so...

...see you in the morning, she said. She watched him walk away. He walked like a panther...sleek, fluid movements. She shook her head, as if to clear her thoughts and wandered into the Florida room. She loved this room, sheltered from the outside, yet a part of it since the room was completely glassed in. Outside a river flowed just yards from the house. Stately old trees dipped their limbs into the water here and there. There was the entrancing sound of the water ebbing and flowing just like they said in the lyrics of the old songs of the south. She could just imagine the exquisitely dressed young women, with big hats and flowing ribbons, being rowed down the river by their dapper young suitors. She stood for a long time, daydreaming. She closed her eyes and when she opened them, it was dark. Then, without warning, she began to think about him and...

...he lay on the bed, but was too restless to sleep. He loved his wife, but something had disappeared when they weren't looking. The passion was gone and he felt sure that no matter how hard he tried, it would not be found again...not with her. He couldn't stay in the room...it was to confining. Everyone was probably asleep. Maybe he could slip into the Florida room and watch the river. After all, he smiled to himself, he was an island boy and the water would soothe him. He made his way to the room and saw her standing there. He barely suppressed a gasp as he saw her silhouette outlined in the moonlight. She was all curves and he knew at once that if he touched her, she would be so very soft. He could smell her scent...jasmine. Her hair was dark and thick, cascading down her back in tangled waves that needed to be tamed. She turned her head slightly and he could see the curve of her mouth...full and slightly parted...an invitation. In his mind, he heard her voice again. Her voice...when she said hello, he heard "come to me". He remembered eyes that were dark and beautiful...but so full of hurt that he wanted to find the source of that hurt and...

...she felt his presence. Tall, muscular...built like the men described in romance novels. But he was real!! His face was all angles and planes. He had the most expressive eyes she had ever seen. He looked straight through her, into her very soul, when they met. She was hypnotized and responded to words that she never truly heard. She remembered wanting very badly to run her fingers through his gorgeous black curls. But most of all, she very nearly embarrassed herself by kissing him on the lips when they met because his mouth was ...

...a hard line, as he fought for control. He wanted very badly to touch her. He wanted to turn her around and lift her face to his and kiss her, lingeringly...passionately...until they could no longer breathe. He wanted to feel her soft body against his. He was sure she had been affected in much the same way from the look on her face earlier that day. He was equally sure that once it started, they could not stop, no matter what the consequences. Perhaps it was just as well that it was dark and she didn't know he was there. He began to silently back out of the room, but ...

...she saw him in the glass. His reflection showed her his face and clearly showed her the battle that he fought with his emotions. She was rooted to the spot, afraid he would come to her yet aching for him to do just that. Somehow this man would be a part of her life. He was her future...it was inevitable. The question was only...

...how long will we resist each other, he asked himself as he silently went back to his room. This morning he was so sure that his feelings were so battered that no woman could bring a spark back into his heart and body. Instead, she brought a fire and...

...he pulled passion right up into the pit of her stomach and now she overcome by the intensity of the feeling. There was a battle beginning for both of them. The battle plan was still being mapped out, but the outcome was already decided...

...surrender.

Contenidos

I'd like to be a ray of sunshine so that I could awaken him each morning with the warmth of my radiant glow. The first thing he saw in the morning would be my brilliant promise of a glorious and beautiful day.

I'd like to be a drop of water in his shower, cascading down his chiseled body, invigorating him and making him new for the day ahead. Even as I slowly dripped down and finally away from him, I would have felt each and every sinewy muscle and reveled in the perfection of God's handiwork.

Perhaps, I could be a bluebird on his windowsill, singing a love song that brings a smile to his luscious mouth. He would close his eyes and listen to the purity of my voice and know that life was truly filled with sweetness and joy.

Let me be the wind that blows gently around him, caressing him, mussing his hair and giving him relief from the heat of the day. I will surround him with secrets, told to him on puffs of air....like ghost stories barely whispered.
Oh, let me be a raindrop in an unexpected shower. Let me refresh him with my cool, wet touch. He will be shocked by its suddenness and then so overcome with the absurdity of a mere human trying to outguess nature that he will be doubled over with laughter.

As the day ends, I want to be the brilliant #663300 color that is part of the twilight ...the prelude to night's soft lullaby. Let my beauty hypnotize him as he marvels at the setting sun and become the backdrop for sweet dreams.

And then, the brilliant star that shines directly above him....let that be me!! I want to watch him as he sleeps, shining on him as part of heaven's candelabra. He can wish upon me because I hold the promise of tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow.

I want to be a little piece of everything that exists in his life. I want to be his world.

A LITTLE STORY

Today I am tired. I just crammed 12 hours of work into what was supposed to be an 8 hour day. I can look forward to a joyless ride home surrounded by cars driven by people just like me - worn out and worn down by the day to day drudgery of life. And then I am home - home to cook, wash, open bills, clean and a dozen other chores. At the end of my day, I look in the mirror and there I am, Exhibit A - a woman who used to be so many things: vibrant, beautiful, funny, passionate and, oh yes, happy! Exhibit A, my friends, is a woman with a passing resemblance to who I used to be.

Well, anyway, how about a distraction from the side show that is my life? Let me sit still for just a moment before I must begin again. Someone at work gave me a video of a young Lating singer and told me to check him out. Latin? Why not. At last it's something different.

I pop the tape in and the music begins, but I'm distracted by the ringing of the telephone. As I'm telling the telephone solicitor to find some other line of work, the beat of the music begins to penetrate my mind. It is hypnotic. I put the telephone down and pick up the videotape. Chayanne. .. a cute, catchy name, but I'm sure he's no Luther Vandross. And then I hear this clear, sweet tenor voice singing in a language I don't understand with my mind, but whose meaning is clear to my soul. The voice is calling me and I cannot resist. What on earth is going here? This is ridiculous.

I wasn't watching the screen, but now I am compelled to see the origin of these sounds. There is a man on the stage. Did I say "man"? I meant a "being" unlike anyone I have ever laid eyes upon. He is tall, with strong, perfectly formed legs spread apart in a stance so provocative it takes my breath away. My eyes move upward to see beautiful, long fingers laid on his chest in a gesture so tender I find myself moving forward to the edge of my seat. When he extends that hand toward me and beckons, I catch myself reaching out to him. "Get a grip, girl,", I tell myself, "the man is NOT in your living room!! But it's too late. I am a player in this scene whether I like it or
not.

His mouth opens to reveal the smile of an angel, radiant and beautiful. I find myself smiling back. I give myself the "get a grip" speech again, but it doesn't work any better now than it did a few minutes ago. In a flash, the smile is gone, replaced by a mouth singing of passion with lips than define the emotion. Passion could not have been born before this man drew breath!

He moves on to a faster beat and I see that Latin angels CAN dance. Oh, alright, it's a pun, and not a very funny one, but give me a break, I am in the midst of losing my mind! My attention is riveted to his hips and legs. My eyes follow his every move. And just when I think I can't stand anymore, he rips open his shirt to reveal the chest of an Adonis.

Now - now - the reaction to this shock begins to truly reveal itself. I am smiling, sometimes giggling... all by myself! I want this man to be real in my world. I want to touch him, yes - but most of all I want him to touch me. I want to flirt with him. I want to make him laugh. I want to lay his head on my chest, stroke his soft hair, plant tiny kisses on his eyes, and make him content.

But wait just a minute. Exhibit A can't possibly be feeling this way. Exhibit A is a caricature of a woman. Isn't she? A shadow of what she once was? A "use to be" woman? Uh uh....not any more. I have experienced a miracle and no one can experience a miracle without changing.

He has reached down into the place where I had hidden myself and cast a spell. My womanhood emerged on his command, better than before. In this new woman's possession are my long-buried emotions, and, maybe, a few new ones. It isn't too late. I'm a little frightened at the intensity of these feelings and their sudden onset, but I welcome it. I need to get reacquainted with myself. As I recall, once upon a time, I was a hell of a lady!!

And the miracle? I saw an angel in the form of a man. The angel looked at me. I am convinced that he did...and made me beautiful.

HE SPOKE TO ME

I awakened with no particular premonition that this would be anything other than an ordinary day. Things progressed as they always did...nothing different. Even when the telephone rang, no "spidey sense" started to tingle, telling me that something momentous was about to take place. I picked up the telephone and said "hello". I never knew that a simple "hello" could make dreams come true. But it did.

Arrangements were made for an Angel to call me. Just like that..."can you take his call now?" I heard my disembodied voice say (can you believe this?), "can you call back in 15 minutes?" Shock. Joy. Disbelief. Fear. What if I couldn't speak? What if I spoke and what came out was pure gibberish? I suffered every possible human emotion in those few minutes until the telephone rang again. This time, it was the preamble to the Main Event at Patricia's Exclusive Fantasy Joint, starring the only man who would ever headline that club...Chayanne.

I said "hello" and .... HE SPOKE TO ME. He said my name and it was as if it were the first time I had ears to hear. I know he said words, but I heard them with my heart in a way that my ears could not. He spoke easily and comfortably, actually interested in me and my life. He asked me questions. He answered mine. Each sound embraced my soul, alternately soothing and exciting me. And then he laughed. Have you ever heard an Angel laugh? I cannot describe it, really. I can only say that it grabs you from your toes to your head and engulfs every fiber of your being. It's contagious - that's what it is. That's right, I have caught the Chayanne's Laugh disease and I never want to be cured!!!

To say it was "the experience of a lifetime" is somehow woefully inadequate. I have brilliance and color in my life....because he spoke to me. The door to my heart opened to let the joy I held prisoner there escape...because he spoke to me. I have renewed strength...because he spoke to me. I face each day with new optimism, knowing that miracles do happen...because he spoke to me.

And I heard in his voice a promise...I will speak to you again, Patricia. But next time, it will be face to face.

MY HEART'S JOURNAL

My heart holds the journal of my life. Until recently, it was filled with experiences not unlike most of you...memories of school, first love, disappointments, triumphs, hopes and dreams. It was truly an unremarkable document. Then one day an Angel sang and the strains of his melody began to write a new chapter in my journal. With the breath of his sweet songs, he blew the dust off my journal and willed it to open to a blank page. The fire of passion in his eyes blazed a new title: "With Me, Now Life Begins Anew". This Angel caressed my soul with melodies filled with promises of love and passion. He whispered his promise to cushion the pain of heartbreak, disappointments and loneliness with sweet refrains of understanding. He brought joy and laughter into my journal and made it a recurring theme. With undisguised happiness, he shares with me stories and songs of his island and makes them part of my life memories.

My heart's journal is filling up with line after line of golden script and heavenly music written with a magical stylus. He is all things: author and editor; songwriter and singer; musician and instrument. These are the fairy-tale chapters of my life...my never-ending story.

I am enthralled. I am spellbound. I am overcome. I am thankful - so thankful - because the prayer I didn't even realize I was uttering, has been answered. I yearned to live and have something worth writing once again in my heart's journal. And so, the answer to my heart's desire was given to me. It was and continues to be - Simplemente Chayanne.

MEMORIES

I don't need eyes to see him. His image is permanently imprinted in my mind. I will always remember the smell of him.... clean and masculine. My arms know what it is to embrace him and feel his hard, lean body. Where he rubbed my back, I burn with the remembered sensation of his touch. My hands involuntarily curve to fit the shape of his waist. My head tilts upward as though all 6'1" of him was still in front of me. I hear the sound of his voice at unbidden times, bringing a contented smile to my lips. A kaleidoscope of images fills my mind: his mouth, laughing; his eyes, sparkling; his hands, long fingers punctuating his words; his hair, dark and curly; his face, all planes and angles; and, his body, tall and perfectly formed. The memory of him engulfs me in a cocoon from which I will never willingly emerge.

I don't need eyes to see him. I need the courage to look away.

Contenidos

SWEET THANG

Hey, Sweet Thang...come on over here. I got somethin' to show ya'. I guarantee that it is somethin' you have NEVER seen before. It's somethin' made of sugar and cayenne pepper, so it burns ya' with an almost unbearable sweetness. The look of it will make ya' close your eyes 'cause it might blind ya'. Look at what I got. Look it over...up and down... and then again until ya' believe what ya see. Let me just show ya'...come on.

Hey, Sweet Thang...come on over here. I got somethin' to tell ya'. Can ya' stand loud noise...'cause sometimes I shout it! Be quiet and listen, 'cause sometimes I whisper it! Open ya' eyes wide, 'cause sometimes you have to read my lips! Let me just tell ya'...come on.

Hey, Sweet Thang...come on over here. I got somethin' to sing to ya'. Open ya' soul so ya' can hear my mysterious song. Open ya' heart, so ya' can feel the pulsating beat. Open ya' mouth, so the words can sliiiiiide on in, penetrate ya' brain and help ya' understand. Let me just sing to ya'...come on.

Come on over here, Sweet Thang. Hurry up so ya' don't miss nothin'. I'm savin' it for ya'. It's yours. But ya' got to be ready 'cause it just might be too much...even for you!! Don't waste time. Just come on over here.

What is it, you say? What did I save just for you?
Why, Sweet Thang...it's me!

FOOL'S QUEST

In my heart there is a fire. Each time I see him, the flames are fanned by the heat he generates. The temperature now is almost unbearable. How can I live like this? Will this fire not consume me? I need to find him and touch him. I am convinced that his touch will save me. If he looks into my eyes, I will regain my sanity. If he puts his arms around me, I will know that he is real and not some ethereal being sent here to torture me with pleasure.

I need to have him acknowledge me. It's ridiculous, I know. He's a big star... I am nothing in his world. It doesn't matter, though. I still need his validation. Without it, how can I justify the depth of my feelings? I'm well-educated, intelligent, and strong. I've been on this earth for some time now and experienced life in many aspects. Yet this man enters my life and all of that life-experience is for nothing. I have changed into some woman that I do not know -- a woman who has feelings for a man that she cannot have in any real way. That's alright. I can accept that. However, I still need to have him look at me...really look at me... and acknowledge my existence.

My soul is burning. I hurt. I don't want to eat or sleep. My "self" is defined by this need. There is a hollow place where my self-confidence used to be. Who am I? Why am I living this life? This can't be right..it doesn't feel right. It's too difficult. Everything about my life before him no longer matters. I think about him all the time. I want to make him real.

Help me. I'm on a fool's quest.

PLEASURE