Progress, at last

I have not kept it secret that I love Thomas Robert Higginson, and I have not kept it secret that he is by far, the world’s best Kisser –you will have to take my word on that.   In fact, he is the subject of an essay I have just written:   


 fuckinmuse: a journey into collaboration

(therefore, also into a Love story in Love Jungle)

(when this essay is posted online, I will be sure to announce it in this blog).


Love Jungle” comes from a love poem Thomas Robert wrote to me; The poem  is in “New Kiss Horizon” (and probably elsewhere; as Thomas Robert Higginson wrote it, he has control over where his own poem appears, but written for me; I know the details even the day he wrote it,and sent to to me.   I also know the day he and became Facebook friends.  I do not know everything, but I know what was, no, IS so very important about US, that Us-ness on a bridge… 

He was only a little upset, when I wrote about my first liquor with him; I will never forget it, and at the time , I weighed  only about ninety pounds, that gin and pomegranate martini at Vermilion  in Chicago –he joked about that, but when that martini made me ill, he realized that I was telling the truth about never having had any.  Of course, I also remember what we had for dinner:

Sri Lankan whole fish, and duck vindaloo arepas,–there just isn’t another date like that one.   He eats a lot more than I do.  And I have to be careful, or I will be right beside him again, and I am trying to let go.  




Thomas Robert Higginson and I in Chicago on a bridge (The best weekend of my life!)  And me wearing Thomas Robert Higginson’s hat.


Slideshow  about Thomas Robert Higginson’s most special hat: “



“A Trip to the Tienda”
by Thomas  Robert Higginson
— for Vashti Astapad Warren 

You are my rent-a-poem
You are love jungle — Yoyo, hula hoop!
You are my closing costs
My plasma vibrator my single malt
You? You are my Tampa manatee
You  are my Occupy
You are an eucalyptus octopus
And a haircut on an autumn day
You are firecracker, salt, oil, vinegar
Things not supposed to mix
yet do.
You are jellyfish tentacles elongating my back,
dreaming of medusans all of which become you,
YOU, You.
Also submarine. Surreality check.
You you…! You YOU you!
That’s who. The Temple of Shenanigans,
AKA Shenanigan Temple.
The complete works. The leftovers.
Strangler fig, tiny seeds starting out on branches,
tines, grow to surround, encase the host,
leaving only figs
to take over

You surround me just that way, take over,
connect with me, to me: your host
You are what I’ve been waiting for
And now I’ll never wait anymore.
Dream baby, you are, and indefatigable,
That, too. And you are the cream in my coffee,
And you are the one, and you are my everything,
And you are everything I could hope for.
And still you are more, and still you keep coming,
You are coming like a river, like a torrent,
Like an all day-lollipop where every day is today.
You are the Castle of Doubt on the Plain of Forgetfulness.
You are one more and able to laugh it off.
My sunshine, that’s what you are.
A rocking chair and a band-aid. Violin castanets.
An elusive perfume. You are all history. You are
Breakfast and you are on your way and all
I can do is list, name, and hand out passports.
Because you are who you are in a way that is all
Your way and which, as a poet trying to set it down,
Failure, I am a failure in that you will always be
Something to me both bedrock and ineluctable,
A passion of opposition and an unchecked probity
Of Probability and yet a chemical formula not to be
Tested. The Higgs boson, that’s it exactly. A gluon.
A ramshackle melody. A forgotten memory that
Never happened and when all is said and done,
Actually nothing was said and nothing was done.
That’s why I keep writing endlessly penning, because that’s
Who you are and when I stop, Surprise, you are
The surprise, you are the inching to the summit,
The chocolate razor, the tadpole’s pole and the
Gate to the Fields of the Lord. I sing you praises and
The answer is more like a light fog saxophone, a
Kingdom Come revelation, a hunch that blossoms
to birth a new species. An appointment for lunch

“Some nectar in a tube, a pillow. Like the new language you
Are, if I could write that I would, you in a race car,
A pendulum, a fire tower, a blimp. A pothole, narcissus,
An a capella cantabile, a big bucket of milk. I can run alongside
You but can’t keep up with you, your tapdancing
Shadow, your clothing made of earth and spit. But I know you
And when you wish me Happy Birthday I trade it for yours,
You not growing old, you everlasting, you infinity you.”

Excerpt From: Thylias Moss. “New Kiss Horizon.” iBooks.



The Love poem Thomas Robert Higginson wrote me, and my response poem to his love poem, ““A First Response to Tuning Forker Gyrl”, was published in Black Renaissance Noir








Volume 15, issue 2, Quincy Troupe, Editor 


pics of the poem and the magazine:










(as essay you may be able to read soon online.  Of course, Thomas Robert Higginson is a real man, and if you are curious about my lengthy romance with him, I suggest you read my romance novel, New Kiss Horizon , available on Amazon, and at Smashwords, where there is a coupon now available:


The code is: JT56Y

The code expires on: 2017-10-15


More photos of the romance novel, “New Kiss Horizon“:










In the meantime, this 63-year-old woman is fatigued waiting for Thomas Robert Higginson, although I wanted to, and I am now talking to a man, Mike, promising so far.  This multiracial woman with only her natural hair, no weave, no extensions, and never a relaxer,   


The only problem with Mike is his height! He is six foot six! and I am four foot eleven –what an odd combination we will be! We met on YouTube where he left comments on one of my videos, and that comment led to lengthy conversations, and, well, like any normal man, he too likes my appearance –even Thomas  Robert likes it, although he is careful not to admit it.  I think I scared him off with honesty; too much honesty…

The video where all began with Mike:









I made this dress by hand, in the dark to try to gain even a smidgen of understanding about what it may have been like as a literate SlaveGirl in Tennessee in the 1850’s.  Remove what most seem to think are the most egregious problems of slavery, beating, illiteracy, respect, and beauty, femaleness, you get at the root of the problem:  you do not own yourself.

Well on this video, Mike left comments, and I replied to his comments and things took off from there.  I do not know where any of this is heading.


Clearly a danger of becoming involved with me is that I might write about you, but only if I like you, and we have some sort of chemistry.  I had instant chemistry with Thomas Robert Higginson.




Anyway, Mike has not sent me a, well, “dick pic” –and I am glad as too many men have used such  pics to introduce themselves to me, and that should not be your calling card, even if you are as proud of it as Thomas Robert both was and should be, but it was the way Thomas Robert Higginson  did everything that he did that makes being with him so memorable.  Even if I had such a photo (I don’t); when he called me so that I could see his goods,  his package, he had me promise not to photograph him in his “erect glory” –sometimes I wish I had; but he didn’t want me do and I didn’t;  even if I had it, I would never post it, but that is somethingI will never have.  I loved those conversations with him in the middle of the night.  Sometimes he called me just so that he could look, and I was happy to show him whatever he wanted to see.  But this took time.  Years, to be honest.    I have that much respect for his wishes, but every now and then,, I wish I had such a photo just to look at it.  I used to call him “Roberto” and when we parted company in Chicago, he had given me —dare I say it?— a dildo that he named “Roberto”  –but ain’t nothing like the REAL thing!  


I met Mike on YouTube where he left comments on one of my videos, about my appearance at Lawrence Technological University:  this video


Of course, I allowed Thomas Robert Higginson to see whatever he wanted to see of me, and he did want to look, what heterosexual man wouldn’t want to look?  Thomas Robert looked and was pleased.  Did he take photos? I don’t know, and I am not about to ask him.  But, I kind of hope he did.


The day will come when I will be with another man and not with Thomas Robert Higginson, although when my son saw us together performing in Detroit, my son told me he had never seen me happy with a man.  But you don’t realize what that means, that my son saw me happy with him, and I was happy with him every moment, even those dark moments when we were upset with each other, but we both said that we experienced the highest highs and the lowest lows with each other.  I had something so rare and precious with him, 30 years of Thomas Robert Higginson, and I do not take any one of those moments for granted. What a precious love I had wth him (we had many conversations in music)
and here is  another perfect song:


But Mike has sent me no such photos, and I post some innocent photos of him right here: 










He is so tall, compared to me.

Now, I could hardly care about color; if I did, or rather if my parents did, I would not even exist.  “Race” is a coincidence of birth.  And I haven’t Kissed Mike yet, but I have to, oh, he is few years younger than me, born when I was seven years old. We met on YouTube (he left comments on my video, and I left comments to his comments, and that was the beginning, of what I am not yet sure…)He left comments on the video of me reading at Lawrence Technological University (


Once I see Mike in person, there may be much to say.

I am keeping possibilities open, but f anyone  is interested especially among my Fb friends, now is the time to act, before anything happens between Mike and I.  


I will not see multiple men, and for me, the Kiss is everything; that’s how it was with Thomas Robert Higginson; once we Kissed here wasn’t anything that I wouldn’t do.  Yeah; it was like that.  

“As you say, “we know a little about sex, about love, about each other” —we are not strangers and yet — we’ve never so much as held hands, and yet now —
—we sit beside each other, and you can wait no longer… You pull me as close to you as possible, as if I’m already part of your body…
—Now I’m going to do what should have happened to you years ago! But I’m glad I get to be the first man to kiss you this way. I pull you to me —gently — I don’t have to ask you about this; we’re alone on this back seat; the show is on my road now, my desire has built so much that I cannot wait a moment longer; I will not wait a moment longer! ”

“—why should I? —
—we could not be closer —
Every fiber of your coat is now part of me; and the scratchiness of the wool is just the texture I crave! —I don’t want anything about you soft; just some of the things you whisper in my ear, and even then, I’m hoping for some edge.
I can’t believe the strength, the possessiveness of the pull. Strong, but I am not forced. Powerful, but I am not forced.
I willingly allow myself to be pulled into you. I no longer have to wonder how to negotiate the transition from friend to lover as that transition is already in progress — so smooth; I can feel myself twirling and spinning in your arms (fantasy galaxy that I also am)… So easy to imagine dancing with you… You want me, Thomas, you claim me, Mr. Higginson. You don’t say anything, just pull me closer and closer as you take me to the “Mr. Thomas Higginson School of Kissing.” I’ve never been kissed like this… I have never kissed a man the way that I kiss you…
I remember when you said this to me and wrote me this just a couple of days ago, but now Thomas Robert Higginson says this:

I can’t wait
To taste your kiss again
and again
Kiss kissing kisses
Slow you lead your
Beautiful tender lips
Just to rest there
So quiveringly touching
The moment itself

“That is exactly how you’re kissing me… and I cannot resist you. I don’t want to.
You kiss me and I kiss you back —I can’t help it! —not what I planned; I had no idea that you would kiss me this way —as if this is the only kiss you get to have for all your remaining life, and you want to make it last, make it count; best kiss on every scale of measurement, I have to quickly learn how to kiss you —you already know how to kiss me, how to make me feel that no man has ever kissed me before. You want me to feel the depth of these kisses… Depth charge kissing, Fuse-ignition. I’m surrendering to you already… I can’t help it…
You’re telling me, you’re showing me how a man kisses a woman he really wants to kiss; you are not forced by anything but your own desire; such compulsion —I feel it too. and I have no more questions, no more doubts about anything between us… You have obliterated them all… Dissolved them all… Poof!”

Excerpt From: Thylias Moss. “New Kiss Horizon.” iBooks.

Places in addition to (Smashwords –and iBooks) where NKH cane acquired:


 Link to “New Kiss Horizon” paperback on Amazon:

 Link to “New Kiss Horizon” Kindle book on Amazon:






I don’t say the to embarrass him, just to tell the truth.  I want to be Kissed the way he Kissed me; that’s all I want; the kiss has to be right, and maybe Mike can Kiss me the way I must be Kissed.   If not, men who are single and any color or race should let me know, now while I am trying to untangle myself from Thomas Robert Higginson, not because I don’t love him, but because I do.   Because everything was perfect with him, and I do not want less.  The litmus test is the Kiss, which will all me all I need to know.


Of course, at the moment I still Love Thomas Robert Higginson, and I realize I always will, but just as he said he had a special new place in his heart for me, he will always occupy a special place in my heart.  So many firsts wth him, including the first time I have ever truly been in love with a man.   Imagine that!    when I was 60 years old.  I am now 63, and still want love like that.

 Thomas Robert Higginson used to sing to me.  He is an excellent singer and an excellent lover –I have to give him that; well, he gave it to me, and the song is for him, among many others:





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