Leijla’s Blog

One of Ten Thousand: a poem about connection

April 28, 2018

We emerge into this world
Naked and alone
To later fade from our bodies,
Our only true homes
Yet during the time
And space in between
We search for another
To connect with, be seen

But for all of the people
That you touch with your soul
There are ten thousand others
For you they have hearts of coal
"How are you?", a handshake
A cold embrace and wry smile
I had good intentions
Where was your intent all the while?

Although I poured my heart out
I'm just another glass of wine
When I flew my true colors
You left them dry on the line
My genuity was entertaining
Splendid afternoon fun
But to you I'm a number
Number ten thousand and one

Over and over
Heavy feelings arise
Perhaps it's time I, too,
Donned an emotional disguise
I'm looking to find one
I'd be lucky to find two
Others to share dark corners with
And by feelings won't be spooked

In the meantime I’ll take advice
From wise Ms. Taylor Swift
Haters gonna hate! And I realize
My connection’s a …

Like flowers? A Poem contemplating comparing women to flowers.

April 11, 2018

I dedicate this poem to Rex

Women are oft compared to a flower
But soft! Too vague is our choice word
More precise, specific shall we be
For specificity is a position of power

Shall I compare thee to a summer's daisy?
Soft, slender and white extremities
Caress and stroke. Ending with a pluck
To seal your heart, thus make eyes turn hazy.

Her, is that which we call a rose?
Smell is sweet, but beware the thorns.
A spike is used to protect her treasures:
Face, touch and intimate mind-prose.

Is the Ms. an artichoke: to be or not to be?
Her disposition depends on timing, on approach
Humble gentleness rewards with purple flowers
Rude and preemptive is greeted with simple green

Perhaps flower still is the perfect phrase
Various flowers bloom periodically for all
A shape-shifting puzzle ladies are and be
Variety 'tis a pain that pays …

Leijla Foss For the First Time (full version)

April 1, 2018

I hope you enjoy the following poem. I began writing it to put on my front home page, but ended up getting carried away. It ended up being a little too long, so I edited the final version into what's currently on my home page.

This poem is about the excitement and experience of seeing me for the first time. I hope the poem accurately describes your excitement before we meet and my personality. Before we meet for the first time, I want you to get to know the person that's on the other side of the screen.

Enjoy!

Whether or not you've done this before
You're heart flutters nervously as you walk to my door
You've studied my figure from haircut to heel
Today is the day of the erotic reveal

Before you approach you check your breath and your fly
To ensure the impression you're a respectable guy
Fist knocks the door, the subsequent seconds you dread
The most horrible thoughts all rush through your head
You stop worrying when the door opens a crack
When the wood finishes its …

A Desperate Situation

February 16, 2018

Desperation:
The creative creation
Of our imagination?

Imagine
A desperate gal
Sells sex to live
Can’t pay her rent
Nothing more to give

You create the scenario
The story is memorized.
But did you stop to question
If your imagination lied?

Couldn’t you be desperate
Bathing in your wealth
Making cash reign and rain
Kissing women under stealth?

An affluent man
So powerful, so poised
Must beg women with paper
To treat him like a toy

You’re desperate for touch
Affection and bliss
I’m desperate for more
To make cash out of a kiss

Remember
We all are desperate
Sometimes wealth, sometimes love
Maybe desperation isn’t desperate
But hope dressed in tattered glove …

Thoughts on Aziz Ansari’s bad date scandal

January 20, 2018

In a situation like this, it's easy for us to take a side. He was right or he was wrong. But we must realize the only people who were there were the two people on the date, who have radically different memories of what happened.

And unfortunately, memories aren't actually a good account of what happened.

Neither Aziz Ansari nor Grace is the 'bad guy' here. However, when I read her account of what happened, I'm confused by many things. This especially:
But the main thing was that he wouldn’t let her move away from him. She compared the path they cut across his apartment to a football play. “It was 30 minutes of me getting up and moving and him following and sticking his fingers down my throat again. It was really repetitive. It felt like a fucking game.”
Why did she stay?
This is the point at which she should have left his apartment. In my mind, sticking around after he's sexually advanced towards you means that you still want to engage in sexual behavior. Grace says that she …

My Views on Tipping Culture in the United States

January 12, 2018

As an sex worker, you’d expect me to support tipping. I enjoy extra money to spend (or invest!) as much as the next person. And when the people who tip me are wealthy, the tips are usually more than chump change.

In theory, tipping is okay. But in practice (at least in the United States) it’s not.

My theory of tipping is this: reserve tips for service that is above and beyond what was expected. Because we have minimum wage in the US, service-based jobs (most commonly waiting/serving) should make a livable wage from their base salary without tips.

Unfortunately, that’s not what tipping is for.

Tipping is expected. It’s not a choice— it’s obligatory, especially in New York City. Tipping is a way for employers to pay their staff less than minimum wage. Thus, patrons feel pressured to pay more than their bill to cover the wage that the employers are supposed to be paying in the first place.

I shouldn't have to pay extra so an employee is kind, considerate or helpful to me. I …

The Sound of An Echo: Literary-Inspired Poetry

December 26, 2017

I'd like to give a short introduction to this poem. Not only to give credit where credit is due, but to give context.

I credit all of the words of the poem to Allen Eskens, the author of The Life We Bury. While reading the book, I noted phrases and sentences that particularly attracted me. Despite not being a romantic book, I picked out blurbs that were romantic or loving in nature.

I was inspired by this poem from a project I did my senior year of high school. While reading Frankenstein, I were tasked with the project of making a poem with words and phrases from Frankenstein, one of the books on our reading list. I've had this idea for a poem for awhile, but reading the poetic words from The Life We Bury prompted me to repeat the exercise. There were certain phrases and imagery that struck me— almost hauntingly beautiful and poetic in nature.

I hope you enjoy the poem:

People don't understand love
With the speed and tumult of a falling mountain river
My head pulsed with …

Erotica: Fantasy Dinner with Ms. Foss

November 26, 2017

Leijla was relieved.

She finally finished her project she’d been working on the last two weeks. It was right on time. Her company needed her work to launch the new website.

Leijla secured her strappy high heels to head home. She undid them when she was working at her desk because they were uncomfortable. It was something her coworkers sometimes teased her about, but she didn’t care. She worked more efficiently when she wasn’t distracted by the straps of her shoes digging into her ankles.

Today her shoes were paired with a blue knee-length sweater dress. It softly clung to her delicate curves to highlight her slender, toned body. Her physique bordered between a model’s slight figure and one of a strong, defined athlete. With her unusual height of 5’8”, her body got a lot of attention from men.

As Leijla stepped into the elevator, she realized she didn’t want to go home. Not yet anyways. She decided to stop at the restaurant downstairs. Though Leijla loved to cook, she also …