Reylo Love Poems by Lady of Reylo
#1 Blood Orange
In the morning, Ben arises, pulls on pajama pants, and pads to the kitchen. He selects a sharp, clean, silver blade from the rack and inspects the edge. Satisfied, he grabs a handful of ripe, rough-skinned blood oranges from the bowl on the counter.
They are Rey's favorite.
Ben's love, his life, his snoring queen wakes to a small, precious glass of blood orange juice. Every day.
He slices into pebbled skin; the knife reveals blood-red flesh. The citrus fragrance bursts into life. A small squeeze of juice drips onto his hand. Ben licks it off.
He is reminded of Rey. Ben tastes her every day.
She is sweet and stinging, sticky and warm, tart and tangy on his tongue.
Like a blood orange.
#2 I Am Learning
I am learning.
The thought drifted over Rey, no more than a soft whisper.
Ben held her head between two massive hands.
Rey kneeled before him. Like a goddess, a queen, a woman.
Her body still throbbing with swollen ecstasy, nibbling the holder of her love.
Her turn for exquisite joy over.
Now, his. For her to give.
What he liked, what he craved, what he wanted from her.
Literally, everything, every moment, every look, every word she owned.
She learned to give it all. To him. Her world.
She was not used to being two halves.
But I am learning, she thought. With him.
#3 Transition
In the moment, on the edge of possibles and wishes and probables and hopes,
When the next step would make or break,
Rey felt the world shift, her moment of awareness,
A deeply felt, perhaps tragic transition.
Yes, she knew Kylo—no, Ben—felt it with her.
His unclaimed hand reaching.
She trembled and stepped back.
In another moment, the one called Kylo saw a precipice.
His world started to slide,
Began to slip, his feet no longer solid.
Standing an elevator width apart,
He looked at Rey's lips and wondered.
A moment where a transition could have made it all different.
And, yet, back he stepped,
Until forced forward to fight at Rey's side.
His transition never included the light.
Hers should be to dark instead
With him.
Rey stared into the moment, the edge,
Watching Kylo's—no, Ben's—lips tremble with a please
She wondered only in the deepest recesses
What it would mean, what the world of dark would bring to her,
If she transitioned with him
Forever not light anymore.
And then, in the end, Ben came to her, his Rey,
Forever not dark anymore.
#4 Wounds / Healing / Touch
The wound is a gash to heart and soul and meat of him.
To her, the wound is a gouge down to bone, a swift, nasty laceration.
Ben is nothing. He already knows this. He is not surprised. No.
Rey is nothing. She finds out and it becomes her monster.
Rey touches the hole in Ben's sweater.
Stitching, knitting, weaving, mending, wishing she had not…
Touch binds wounds.
It was not an intentional wound she gave him.
Was it?
He was tired, so was she.
Of incessant fighting, of being so frightened of self, of dark thoughts, evil plans
Wondering who to touch and would it all go away if he just
Kills it.
Wondering if she could scream out
you do not know me
you do not know this pain.
Does he?
Touch him, Rey, you will see.
Touch her, Ben, you will find
You are healed.
They touch.
Hands, bodies, lips together.
Wounds healing touch.
Touch healing wounds.