Posts Tagged ‘separation’

ur 4-me-ness

and the sirens Sing.


music of death, injury, and trauma


if e’er a good place to be depressed, thss were it. Rooms lit by the warmth of an open oven –

a kitten pouncing on my feet at random,

makeshift bread puddings,

and words of agreement on paint colors.

the freedom of girls whose skin gets brighter

wth the tendence of god’s will.

travel and peace, time and velvet intuits.

spinning vinyl in the corners

and candles slowly litting,


furls and uncurls

of the absence of r Union

and the masking of cold, cold afternoons in sweaters.


I hesitate to say I’m doing poorly

‘til I notice how my lungs’v shrunk

nd that the pace of my life has become less-sustainable.

It’s been my task to still and absorb

I feel I’ve been failing. (felt definitively something shifting)

but still unknowing how to conceive anymore.


I like, however,

relinquishing control

to some extent.


I hesitate to say I’m


‘til I think of how much work I do these days

just to feel like myself –

when the memory of getting into the driver’s seat after work,

feeling your skin on mine,

and blooming my bouquet in your vast, lay-to-wait-luminescence,

made me feel more at home

inside this vessel

than anything ever does.


It was the subtlest layer unfurling.

juicy heart neath all that design:

the Yoga of finding center

without looking.


You led me straight there every time.



May I never underestimate

the value of your for-me-ness



HOnestly, HOney, these energies so comingling

for endlessness.

I can’t express enough

the depth of your waters

or how tantalizing they are.

These memory lanes are lined with leaves

to gather and crunch and dine on as they die

and dancing flames, shifting their arenas

with twisting confidence.

and manure

and piss

and my own menstrual blood, shaking out over the undergrowth.

these lanes are dawn and dusk

and live beside the core(ps) of my being

for now and how long.


How often is it,


you find a man who is your flesh and blood

know it the moment you lay in the grass together

who can talk your language,

which happens to jive with the tongue of the trees?


how often is it

that these tormenting dreams

bring one truth?


I always want to tame or suppress my darkness.

His light was bright enough

to illuminate all that


without him I need some rock to hold

so I can quiet in the night

and stay up past eleven

breathing through my nose.



I’ll never understand all this.

Only can I unfold it.

Til then, search on the untold

caress the heart

and sensitize the malleable mold.


And see what continent;

what mount r plain;

will seize my form for the coming times.


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