winter and that old chill

Silence and a mist over the slushy white.
I said, "I miss you."

Do you understand?

I do not have a book of code, how does one learn to read me properly?

I am complex,
and also simple.

I require communication - hugs - and delights.

Lately there is hasn't been much of any,
and i'm starting to get cold.

Hold on to me, as the winter deepens her chill, turns us inside out, and says, "SHH, listen to my heartbeat under my mystical white."

So blanket me with security, hold my hand, head and heart until I fully trust that what you want is also what I need.

or maybe it's something completely different,
and winter always shows what summer can't.

We place ourselves in the hole and then wonder how we got here, and I'd say this time I'm wide-eyed and knowing, and still,

I do not want to be alone.

It is cold,
it is dark,
and your skin breathes so well next to mine.

Swaying madly

Rust eyes and everybody cringes when the fairy lights turn off.
The houses beam radiant, candles in windows and that evergreen tinge.

The fire consumed more than the wick and this is real.

Blow it all out - festivities - all the laters and I try to make plans but all my days have pencil scratches  and where is the space for the song?

Glossy forest green paint covers up a wall even if you want a lush purple velvet couch and I suppose we have other strange visions that need to be realized.

Bank accounts tell stories.
I wonder yours when I eye you up and down -
Your leather reaks of tinsel and I'm pawning my gold.

For something greater.

I think, I should fly you out to kiss me in the sun,
And I rather love this idea -

Since memories speak more than a big red bow and scents take you higher.

We could turn the lights off and feel our bodies moving towards the heat of the sunburst star and I would wager a large bet that you never felt more cosy.

Worn and scratched we come accross but this mixed bag of words keeps my prayer book at bay and I still sway madly to your seasons and your starch white page. 

cravings

Metallic spikes and poetry about plums,
it's really simple,
and I know what I like.

Herbal smokes, elderflower marshmallows, cranberry shrub.

I took it literally, since I like to live in my new default,
and as wine-colored heels clinked the cobblestone and brick,
I felt it deep within.

That feeling I've craved.

And you?

I crave you too.

Night frights and the cars are all gone

The car keeps driving but nobody knows how.
I scream at you since you broke it and I don't even know your name.

Nightmares as I try to park, to question, to understand.

But the area is seedy and I just want to wake up.

In another bad dream I came out of my house to a firetruck in the driveway.

There was no fire.

There were two of you and you spoke no english.

You took gasoline and threw it on my car
Then you lit a match.

I lunged forward and stepped on the match right as it hit the ground.

You tried again but still I estinguished flame before everything of mine was gone.

Again you tried but this time mid-air I flung the match your way.

You all blew up in an instant in my driveway.

Thank G!d the firetruck was there.

And these were fright and moments in the night...
Wonderings of metaphors and why I am so scared.

so ripe and the now that is

Eyes open and they will never be the same again.

This is the restart button.

You said, "I'd sure like to go on an adventure"

and then the world collided,
and you saw everything as it was and wasn't,
atom-nal moments,

and the grandiousness of a fall.

You said, "I wonder what it is like to fall, I've never fallen before, and the thought of it is intriguing."

and then you slammed face into boulder,
blood,
guts,
and cavities,
and nobody understands invisible bruises.

Once your eyes open you will never be the same again.

I wonder,
and then I spit truths like I've lived ten thousand lives before,
and maybe I have,
and maybe I just want to believe in something greater.

"We will lift each other up, as you've lifted us goddess".
I sing this in the bath,
wildflowers filling up the tub and I surrender always.

"With an astounding love!"

We drank the pitcher full of sangria,
held hands and motions.

"I love you" almost oozed out all over you as I hugged you goodbye in the dark parking lot with my parents waiting in the car,
and it oozed all over my head and hands and heart, but I'm good at keeping messes to myself.

You said long ago that nothing could fill the void of your longing for impenetrable bliss,
and this is that code.

Nobody knows it until they've found it, and sometimes people find it without knowing their own code.

Desires and selfishness
and our world is almost engulfed in flames.

There is work to do,
and I am still sitting still in this room,
but it is brighter than ever before.

I don't cry here anymore,
I make my bed and the candles dance.

There is awakening and I've felt it,
alone in the crowd of millions,
sweat glimmering on my turtleneck as I jump up and down to the soul-jazz beat.

I do not look around,
I know I am flying,
and higher than everyone else.

and the heart is afloat - filled with the abundant and abounding love that YOU have for me, and so many wildflowers!

I jump for the future, I jump for my past, I jump for the very being that I am now and all the lessons and growth that will come my way. I jump for creativity and yearning, passion and love.

I jump because I know no other way to connect fully to source,
head swaying, hands having a rucous good time, and
me
whoever that is
soul
body
crazy hair
don't care

alive and glowing in this new now that tastes so good and ripe. 
 

exhale

Movement and the big exhale.
Half painted red nails,
the smell of something more expensive than acetone,
and severe pain in groin,

just fucking let go.

And hush.

listen.

There is silence, it's maddening and oh so loud,
if you keep checking your email maybe the Messiah will come.

it has before,
and this time it said,

We want YOU.

Breath and light,
sun and sand,
but I won't go to places I'm not needed.

She said she would sleep in her car tonight, she had no place to go,

and all my joy bursts and crashes.

When one is not cared for, none can be.

Yet,
yet,
yet,
this is my day,
my celebration,
my hell yes, I really do deserve all the honor and respect.
The you can trust me, I know what I am doing!

The oh my goodness the one thing I wanted that I didn't even know I wanted, I got!

Now it's time for the leather jacket and cashmere onsie.

I live and breathe with desires,
and in this exhale,
I don't know where to go.

So stay,
play panda pop,
colors match and explode and this is all there is to life,
sometimes you run out of bubbles,

sometimes you get given the wrong color, and all you can do is aim and try.

And when it hits,
when the level is complete you say, I did it! I did it! I did it!
but then another challenge comes, and another, and another,

and,
wow,
it's tiring to keep waiting for something,

and then when it shows up you sometimes wonder why you waited.

And other times you just know it's so perfect that the yes has always been there and all you can do is keep breathing, laughing, and make a little mischief in your down time!

a hot fridge

Memories with you taste like crusty old bread and our refrigerator stopped working,
so everything including you is moldy and sitting in black trash bags on my street corner.

It's not a singular you,
since you and you and you are just you's now.

This is something I am trying to understand,
and I have a MINE now,
but you's come and go so deliciously
and someday we all get stale,

even me.

You see,
I have no control.

Everyone that whispers, sings or screams in our lives is a blessing,
sent from above,
below,
wherever.

Some use words, some use touch, some eye gaze and others silence to tell you they love you. 

But they all love you.

YOU.
you,
you?

He asked, "have you said the words yet?"

I cried.

inside.

I laughed.

outloud.

and then I told You, and we laughed together,
sometimes you can know so clearly and still have no idea which way the road turns,
and it's pretty fucking awesome to just ride, and straight, for a long full while.

YES.

So when the bread turns to croutons,
and the salad is wilted,
and the dressing is warm,

we go to grab donuts,
but you see me from behind the counter, eye's linger,
and I see you miss me,
but there is no time for wondering or sorry's.

I have become the most solid, beautiful, full, loving being I have been yet in my life
and all the you's have aided me in this new me.

you
me
you
me
No


ME
ME
ME
Yes
hell yes
ME.

This not poetry, it's saturated outlines, metaphorical statements,
not for your intentional perusing,
but so that I can go out now, and be fully embodied within.

I am here,
me,
not you,
not you,
me.

hello sweet, sticky bourbon caramel sea salt donut!

I got sugar high,
then crashed,
but this seems to be life.

High up flying now,
you say you are sick,
and all I want to do is hug you and feed you soup.

But I am getting myself a job, a full on big girl pants job,
and I am focusing on this body, love. love. love,

and if you asked me if I said the words,
I would say,

look at my eyes,
I say them everyday, every second with every breath.

 

Ancient tales of flower ritual

''I'll have to fall asleep with roses in my hair,'' she said.

The evening Jasmine didn't bloom as she had hoped,
it was withered and smelled less like
semen,
which always aroused her

curiosity-

but this time,
the garden roses would have to suffice.

So she lay in her bed,
pink petals strewn atop her auburn curls -

but the sickly sweetness of over-blossomed roses did nothing to calm.
She tossed and turned,
since the weight of her lover was in a distant land -
drinking bourbon by fireside and communing with
the beings from beyond.

But the restlessness wasn't about his body, it was in deep correlation to her own.

"How can I ever release?" She wondered.

She found her answer in the flower's eye, the water beads still holding moisture in the thick soft bristles of it's inner womb.

"I must do this myself!"

So she grabbed a bloom from the silver carafe on her bedside table and started to stroke herself slowly until light moans oozed from her delicate lips.

She fantasized of warm dripping oil - waterfall gasps - and her lovers deep laugh echoing inside of her.

Pleasure.

Fully in the moment - in full deep breaths - 

Moaning and laughing

as is the only way.

The co-mingling of sounds sent sparks to places she has never felt before
and
then
as if infinity unleashed all the tightness,
the pomegranate burst from within herself.

The stars danced-
her hands loosened -
dropped,
heavy.

finally.

Legs didn't feel like legs, nor rocky feet.

newness - softness, something so grande.

As body melted into pillow she sang sweet songs of gratitude and gazelles


and he kissed her soul across the sea,
honoring all of herself, her strength, her delight
and her really pretty face.

soul dance

"Come to the Orchard," you whispered,

so I went outside, circled the lake twice, ignited my spark, talked incessantly to myself, since change is in motion, and the sun feels it too.

Today I danced barefoot on the beach.
The waves roared,
my body ached,
step after step,
leap after leap,
circling,
singing,
chanting,
loving
the only way I know how.

Hugely.

The sun coated my skin as I lay half-awake on the blanket we got from the Arab Quarter.
Bright, matte, light-filled blue filled my eyes whenever I dared open then from my waking dreams.

I know what I want.

I want to soul dance, and be grateful.
I want to give all I have, and be an open vessel for all your love.

The timing is perfect, I have cleansed 'all' wounds.

They say, "Kaper" is to, "cover over," the magical skin reformation on a deep bloody cut,
and this is this day, alive and here.

I look at my skin,
there is a thorn stuck in my finger,
it's been there for a week.

I could pull it out, but I say, you know what, it just isn't so bad.

Stated.
here.

But I held counsel with my deviant part within,
the one that says she wants to protect, but in truth she shuts me in closets, locks the door and says, HAH!

I hugged her.
I told her she was beautiful.

And then I asked her to leave.
She left, but she did not want to,

she was sticky and left goo all over me, and she almost knocked the door over banging it so hard trying to be let back in.

NO.

These are boundaries and they work within as well.

I said, I don't need your protection now, I am so grateful for all you have held, and I can take it from here, since I'd much rather take care of myself how I know best than sit in muted silence with the TV blasting, chips and dips in my hand, and a lazy eye gazing over at the iphone screen.

NO.

Delight in this newness, and I can have anything I want.

The life that I want is here for the taking,
the life I don't want, does not need to be my narrative anymore.

I am here.
I am here.
I am joyously here.

And it takes hard work, dedication, and honest love for the divinity within,
but my body doesn't want to ache anymore,
and this time I'll listen.

x


 

five seven seven seven

eyes shutter, body quakes,

he twitches his whole body once -

but mine is twitching all day long.

There is that motion being set - and my body is stretching so thin from passiveness + stillness.

Come, to source, it whispers always, but I cannot go, when there is so much unknown -
and I never was scared of unknowns,
but in this too familiar room,

they eat me whole.

I turn on the bright light tv to soothe -
it makes me cry -
I do not want to have tears in my eyes every time I see the sun -

And yet the sun makes me tear for far too many reasons to explain here,
and I know this too.

Chocolate milk coats my tongue,
I do better now with communicating truths,
but fear is fear and I am fearful of the fear and the intense knowing that the fear would just dissolve if only I allowed it too-

ah.

The typing really does do wonders, and today I said, maybe I need to care more, but then I said,
I say that every day,
and I stayed inside -
ate a lot -
and stared aimlessly hoping the numbing would come -

it didn't.

My body is impervious to numbing,
unless you needle my gums.

shit.

It's like I had found it and then let go all too quickly to even know what was in my hand -
it could have been a butterfly or a beetle or a poisonous rat.

I saw a butterfly hatch in my hand once from a golden cocoon.
I thought it was magic -
the turner of days making my eyes dance

but no, it happened.

we cried together as I said I was scared and then the butterfly was born and even those orange and black wings couldn't save me from my sadness,

nor could you.

I sometimes think about your long hair, the way you massaged me gently, read me poetry and made me tea. When I think about you now I do not cry. I do not shake. I do not have fire rise up inside me wanting to gnaw you to the bone for all the pain I felt with you.

Now I just feel calm.
I feel gratitude.
I feel serenity.

I feel myself loving myself more than ever,
even when I feel like loving myself is the hardest thing to do.

This story is over.
I choose to quit it, to say, that is not my narrative at this current moment.

I say No to excuses of healing or the 'I am still bleeding from the internal wounds'.

Time has mended, and I must move on.

And I have a silky skinned man to cuddle up with now.
He is different, he smiles so brightly with his crooked teeth, the ones he popped back in after he crashed his head into the cement.

He eats chicken nuggets and coffee,
coffee and whiskey,
whiskey and bourban

and he smells so nice.


We laugh a lot together, and that was the goal.

I said, I want you, once I saw his face,
I always know when they intrigue me,

and I always know who holds my medicine.

He gives it to me subtly, in ways I may never understand,
It's sweet though,
it's full of ease,
and there is no manipulation.

I fear, but of course,
intimacy.

Since I look back on pictures and our smiles could have fooled everyone,
and they did.

You tried to mend something that was un-mendable and it was too late.

Finally you took me out,
finally you noticed,
but my stomach was screaming with every word you spoke,

and this is the truth about relationships,

They skin all flesh and bone.

They begin and they end so easily.

I try to focus on the now, but the end is searing my mind,
the when, the how, the who, the why.

And that stops me from releasing,
stops me from texting you when I want to,
stops me from giggling out how much love I hold inside for you.

five
seven
seven
seven

code, and all the numbers, but this is truly the only way to know.

present-ness.
now.

action.

be.

leave the place of comfort,
to be far greater than you ever knew possible.

I will find a home,
I will find a job,
I will find my fire within
again,

and it has nothing to do with the men in my life,
So I rambled on for nothing,
but I see it as mirrors,
and they mirror to me my insecurities,
and my beauties,
my losses and my gains.

I sit in bed curled up most days since it is comfortable,
and I admit it,
only to those I fully trust
and to you,

since the opening is the only way to leave,
to say, no,
not today.
today I want sunshine,
today I want movement,
today I want laughter with friends,
and a home that is my own.

This is the mantra,
the magic,
the must.

I hold my hand open and who knows what I catch next,
but I will hold it gently,
I will love it,
I will take care of it,

as YOU take care of me.

The gift of the teacher

If every moment in life is meant to teach then teaching is what must happen.

Listen to your heart beat,
Does it match mine?

I stand strong in this power of the teacher.

I stand strong in my power of knowing,
and un-knowing,
and the ability to distinguish them.

I stand strong in my voice as it echos in the room,
as your eyes gaze at me,
sometimes full of wonder,
and sometimes with complete confusion and boredom,

and I view them as the same.

Tell me how to be solid, and full of wisdom,
I ask.

It is only through extreme humbleness and through sight that the wisdom can pour forth.

I want to See you all.

Tell me how your day went,
and what your dreams are,
tell me your fears,
and what made you proud of yourself?

And in this connection of heart, the wisdom gets transfered.

I stand strong in my core,
my beautiful,
feminine power,
that yearns for attention but shys it away.

NO. Today I stand, and Today I claim the power that has always been rightfully mine.

I am the teacher,
I am the goddess,
I am the priestess,

and so are you, darling, but today you listen to me,

Strength and something unnameable.

This is that tune.
Of luxury, and my soul-song.

If I can stay in deep connection to the present, and what is, and the needs of the classroom, then that is the blessing!

Amen v'Amen.

To give from heart is the work of this world.
Bless me with authenticity, trust, knowing, strength, vocal power, ease, smiles, laughter and the ability to translate my true self in my giving.

X

pure heart truth

Find comfort in the now, there is nothing else.
Everything I know, I've known it all before.
Medicine words, and I do the talking, but this time I listen too.

My fingers get caught sometimes in ginger delights, tins can be deceiving, and I was told it would all work out, but how?

crack open your shell even more, she says.
Bleed it all out, and then let's shove the blade in even more.

It's hard work.

And I've shed so many tears already.

So this must be why it is working, I gave it up, said, I am healed,
no there is no such thing, just when you feel good, it's time to tatter new clothing, and all my outfits have rips and splattered paint, and
the new leather jacket costs more than I make all month,
sometimes.

I asked for money and I got some.

say that again now.

I deliver on promises.

I am timid when I really know what is right.

I hold back passion, for other people's sake, and I say, this is the nice thing to do.

No my name is not Nice anymore, it's not and it won't be.
It never felt right.

I am more than the sum of my parts since you can't define my insides.

I made an altar stone, bled on it,
smeared my life force all over,
then I prayed,
and hard,
and deep,
and said,
you know what to do.

What you give you receive,
and I need to give more

to myself
to
you

to the
world.

So much,
in this awakening.

I think,
I should sit in silence again,
10 days,

novel.

And then I think,
I should travel,
again.

and then I think, no

stay.

be.

this is where the magic of transformation happens.
In the here, and in the now.

And I learned that in foreign tongue,
I laughed all the way through,
found friends in the bugs,
made up terrific stories,
and I swear, I saw the glimmer of the one!

Holy, holy.

In the cycling of everything,
rebirth must begin.

The death has been a severe one, and there is more chopping of unnecessary limbs left to do before winter.

alas,
I know it's true.

Maybe this time I will listen to pure heart truth,

default on this.

I need to, and now!
 

The lover's dance (a Tu'bAv tale)

The lover dances soon at midnight,
Gather your flowers and sweeten your tongue.

The circles unify,
And white cloth becomes pure as we bathe it in ritual water.
Or wine,

It's up to you.

We play a rousing game of hide and seek around the mulberry tree,
The peaches are getting full
Now,
Like my breasts,

And you noticed.

Swinging in mischievousness,
you pinch my cheeks,
My lips curl.
Become the fish,
And yours are salty ocean too now,
Kiss,
Here,
In eternity and laughs.

No,
You musn't let go of my hand.

We shimmy in unison,
And the petals fly out of my hair.

I lead you to the wisest grandfather tree in the orchard,
I whisper for you to bend your head low to his trunk,
Kiss his roots,
And listen to his stories.

You do not know,
So you do as i say.

And this is what you hear:

Beating hearts, distance and boundaries, sugar, milk, honey, and stone.

You dont know why,
And i crawl atop you,
Hugging you as you kiss the earth.

And the lover is alive in the wind and late august air.

Spirals of grape tendrils and puffs of queen anne's lace.

Chase me to the stream,
Ill throw my flowers in the water,
Tighten my grip on your hand and submerge in cleansing.

The lover dances soon at midnight and my tongue is honey sweet and chile spiced with all of you. 

broken and stung

Broken

and the temple is destroyed.

Every year they come to tear it down, and nobody is ever prepared.

The bee cursed me today,
I knew it was a sign from above,

and I sing to them at nap time,

so why is everyone so angry?

Penthouse apartments and I placed precious stones on my plants.

When it all falls apart like sand at a party,
there is only one thing to do,

buy flowers, and make yourself the most beautiful flower crown there ever was.

I say,
I won't succumb to the madness.

It's so much going on all at once, and I know I am talented like the rock and star and all the planets.

Delights, it's always little delights and
laughter helps,
always.

I call you, since,
I need you,
and I don't know what to say.

Do I ever know what to say?

I want to just let spirit take control,
but then I linger in too much space between, and it's muggy and humid,
and suffocating to wait.

It's been so long,
I'm so ready.

I wonder what it will be like when everything flips on it's head and changes.

I've changed so many times before but I want you, and I keep saying that!

I can't hold on so tightly or I will become numb and thumb already is.

fuck.

I think this is the way,
let it all crumble before me,
like it does and will continue to forever.

And when the temple is fully destroyed, the plants will peak through once more through the rubble.

I think this is how it has to be.

I cried today,
I screamed today,
I laughed today,
I worried today,

I dreamt today
that all I ever visioned came true,
and it's so scary to think I can accomplish anything I want.

That is the blockage,
that must be destroyed.

I will sit on the cold ground and contemplate the brokeness
and then
perhaps
that juicy pomegranate 
will indeed burst
and
send
red
sprays
all over,
to color this life with sweetness.

I am like the sun

Bohemian cocktails and the sun sets don't get watched as often.
The red string pulls us in together -
one center,

one heart.

A memory brings only tears

sobbing

bedtime rituals.

Why do words stick so tediously on tongue?

I speak in metaphors and broken sentences,
so
why,

do I not share,
with  you?

all of you.

creativity types out and therapy is free when inner words teach you about your insecurities.

I never erase the line above,
but It's like when you try too hard all there is empty space and too many lines between, filled with words but rotten and juice-less.

I want grapefruits - red ones -

cut in half
on the board.

drizzle brown sugar on me -
it's delicious and i like your smell.

Roses and a light apple tinge of something bitter but nostalgic for better fall days and it's yacking away until we reach a point that feels comfortable.

I do everything backwards,
like the sun,

and I know it's already created for me.

stare up at the stars more, they are begging to be sung to,
and then it will all rain down in abundance - twinkle lights and fairy bliss- it's always going to be this way.

give me symphonies

'I open my eyes and beams come out' --

I know this place is just right, here, in between the sheets with you,

and I've never laughed so hard.

Easy. It's still there.

We made up an argument, a YES, NO, just because,
since we never disagreed before.

Laughter, and weirdness, and I read about the past.
--------
I said, 'almost everyday you screamed'.

We did not fit -
puzzled and oh so out of tune.
--------

The full moon shone bright last night
and this morning a wolf turned his face to me
sauntered into woods,
and nobody believes this girl.

wonder-eyes.

We are so lucky.

Pay me in dreams actualizing.

I am richer than ever,
and they keep on appearing.

And YOU.

I like the way you smile,
and I laugh
so
easily,

just like that blind woman,

in the bath house,

who knows we are all one,
but keeps her gold to herself.

It's always better,
and even in the fear of losing this,

I know.

Release gunk.

I hate to suppose, and the full moon made me luna-cray.

Shh,

look at me,
kiss my heart,
and wrap me up in your joy.

I won't let go.

your musk smell

Salty water and you're dipping into liminality.

Drum work and familiar beats - turning - upturning -
re-rooting

growing into something -

but

nothing grows in salt water.

You drown if you have too many rocks in your pockets.

If you go too far, there is no coming back

Release those hot rocks

down
down
to earth.

Salt water and a mixture of bone and blood.

bread.
honey.
rosewater.

they murmer incantations at dusk,
they sprinkle salt in the corners of the household,

poo, poo.

Indulko Grande: The grand sweetness.

Invite, invite, and then politely ask to leave all that is not worthy of your attention.

Salted water
is everything
our tears,
our sweat,
the ocean.

And didn't I tell you dear one, that you are the ocean?

I believe in the dripping wetness and the entirety of that old tale.

other people's time

Sunshine days and bones are frozen.

Limp.

Only for the moment.

'I am having a party, and I have no one to invite.'

this is a truth.

'They all love me and live miles away.'

this is a truth.

Surrender .

Black and white dreams and nana said it better.

There is itching in places I don't want,

and white is supposed to help, so do it.

We chat and end on phrases that don't hold weight, will we ever?

I am ready for the vineyards and model days,

It is today,
and it is also lagging.

Slow, slow, slow, and that is okay too.

realizing I am back on other people's time, and I don't quite know how to deal with that.

Partnerships can be messy and I am witnessing myself in others and learning how not to repeat old patterns of needing and craving and the pull that never goes away.

kraut and more kraut,
it's good for your gut, and we need to keep that clear.

and knowing.

I am the truth from foot to brow,
tell me more now.

fractured tooth

It's only supposed to happen in dreams.

broken teeth,
lost teeth.

Like they shared with me last summer.

But nerve pain is here and real this time.

fractured tooth and something is saying this isn't a coincidence.

Last night I dreamed quite absurdities.

Missed flights - doctors - wrong ways - late for the intro - familiar faces - Israel - chubby men -
money exchange -

The past is the present and why do I keep thinking I'm going on a big trip that I never signed up for?

It's so real it's more than dream.

So the slice inside my tooth is reminding me of how close dream and reality truly are,
but this change is so good.

I might be split, but heart is whole.

He said, "I might want to move."

My heart sunk, but I could not say anything negative.

We are all but passing ships in the night and I know the truth of the truth.

I open up to all the hard dreams, and strange days, since I look out the window and see trees swaying in the breeze and I just have to say, "Wow, I am alive!"

This is gratefulness and I surrender to your beauty and your plan.

"Don't want to reason about the one I love,

"

Yes.
all yes.

wine lips // nude lips

Your salty smell -

Hair waves in the sea mist and lavender oil, like I wrote in my "favorite things."

finally.

wine lips coated today - only for this mirror, but soon, world will see.

nude lips coated today - bare it all they say, then we will be free.

the eyelashes always speak louder with help and I finally said, "yes, I am ready again to see this beautiful world."

We had a picnic in my backyard.

doors are locked you see, and we are not allowed inside.

I would love you to unlock all there is to me.

sugar scrub these lips,
make them smoother than before -
communication and laughter,

we have the latter.

I coated my lips in wine,
since it means something so much to me,
and my hair braided looks like a goddess,

the one I am.

SoJa and Trevor,

whatever it takes to feel.

Packing,
but this time it's for me.

None of your shit,

or questions to blank space.

wads of cash in makeup bags,
and he said he likes sparkles and stickers.

Your salty smell and ocean is calling my long forgotten name.

wine lips and nude lips - it's been my story, and I need them now!

cling wrap and that old mess

wake up
same routine
but I slept 12 hours and still can't open these eyes.

I recall the sadness now,
I buried it deep,
but things want to break.

puddles and streams
and clawing at the hardwood.

Remembering something that I don't want to.

one year.

we last for hours now,
clinging but not cling wrap,

I said, "even if you wrapped me in cyran wrap, I'd still be messy and ooze all over."

But the mess has been cleaned, and finally.

playing house, and all the make believe.

I lied so hard,
in order to feel something big.

Now I feel,
and we won't ever lie,
no,
not again.

red lace

you woke me from my nap -

slumber parties are better with you -

suntanned kisses and freckles dotting my arms -

remember when we didn't even know each other?

bonfires, and someone makes us laugh -

I gave them all hugs -

lingered in between sleep to hold you tight -

morning trysts and you drive me to my car -

sun dance with me -

what shall we do on a day like today?

swim in each other

the waves are just water and I never told you that story-

maybe I will

someday.

rock climbing, water being, tell me a forever song.

window shopping, ice cream eating, forgetting we ever had to make plans in the first place.

You call me and wake me from my nap, but I'm dreaming of you,

and it all makes so much sense.

You say red, I say burgandy,
but lace is lace and I wanted you to see.

the golden year

I keep saying, "I just came back,"
like being here isn't good enough.

And I felt that inner critic starting to rant
when they came in today,
'Oh, you work here now?'

"Well, I just came back."

No
You
Didn't.

It's been a year of gold.

I am going to bury the last of it along Highway 1,
I am going to whisper my anger to the sand,
I will cry salt back into the ocean,
and I will say, "I've done it , holy hell, I've done it."

They say it takes half the time you've been together to heal,

well, cut it in half and I'm almost healed.

I can't breathe out of nose,
I'm dripping sweat,
I think perhaps you are a bit immature,
and then I think,

Oh, hello fear.

Not this time,
this time is happy.

We don't make rhino noses out of leaves, but maybe someday we will, or we'll be even more creative.

Everyone is doing something with someone else.

vague, and it feels that way.

Another you, another you, another you,

I can't even personalize it, since names mean more than we think they do,

and attachment is a funny word.

I want your body, and I want you, and they are the same thing to me.

It's all stressed out that we will be apart for so long, and I can't help wonder stupid thoughts.

No,
return to the trust, and the knowledge that holding on is like worrying,
it does only damage.

I see sparks and fireworks, and I can't attend your tangible party but we have them always and I thank G!d for moments when I can think of your name, and backflip inside.

I must bury my final wounds,
they do not serve me,
I am no longer slave,

boundaries galore
and I want to swim in you.

But this work I must do alone,
return to the scene of the scar,

and say,
"You do not control me now!"

Taste Test

Lucuma and green powder,
something feels right and it smells like the West coast.

I ran myself ragged,
8 hours, and then some.

I give and give,
there must be that hatred somewhere,
it's directed at me though.

All the money made goes to support the pain it took -
irony at it's best.

Thank you for the humor.

I think next time I'll take the stand up comedy show with you.

But we did that too...

And we cling really tightly, and say, "I will miss you so much."

Deportation.

No.

It's health and hunger.

The dream page is lingering, stuck on save, and I don't understand why these moments take me forever.

It's not fun.

fun is me and you driving to the pizza store.

When your eyes are closed I stare at you, wondering, who are you really.

Then you open them, and you smile, and I don't have to wonder anymore, I just know.

It's eyes that glisten.

It's Adrenal support,
It's hands on your back,
It's the red blood stain on your sheet,
and the hugs that come after,

since our bodies are craving the inside and you said i'm beautiful again.

Unlock
healthy dependency

and tell me I've picked a good tasting smoothie.

The Mountain

Revelation comes
and it writes a new story every year.

We cradled each other in our bodies warmth,
stayed up all night, learning
something new, something not allowed,
raw, un-censored, and saying to myself,

'yes, this is revelation.'

a year later, and I'm back in the same woods,
but my ear drops down to heart, and says, "He's the one"
so I freak out and think, "this must be it."

I never told you that, since I never wanted to believe it, but she seemed so convincing and revelation comes in all shapes and sizes.

I danced in the rain then,
whispered to the flowers and then shined my light,
since the lighting and thunder clap is never enough when the mountain is on fire.

Last year, I held your hand, and pulled you out onto the night street, so you could catch your panic breath. You were scared and anxious, like always, and you didn't like the sight of so many people worshiping something you know nothing about.

I led you to a Japanese restaurant, they sat us,
you ordered tea,
nothing else.

we couldn't afford anything,
not even the tea.

I held your hands and you thanked me for my comfort.
I had tears in my eyes, since revelation was happening and it was saying,
"No, you are certainly not the one."

We never returned to the song and prayer, since you always dictated the evening,
and I had no power, no, not then.

So as the clock nears 11pm, and all my tribe is meeting at the mountain soon,
I think to myself,"I must write, there must be a revelation here."

In this room, I sit, I lay and I stare.
The tv scribbles out nonsense and violence, laughter and I eat chocolate and sriracha chips and say that this is my healing.

We text about plans for adventure,
you are in your own bed, and I'm in mine.

Tears now, since I think this is the poignant point:

we must always do what is best for us, and us is the me and the hashem residing within.

I do not crave the external night time learning, since this night is teaching me how to listen to all the inner knowledge inside.
I climb mountains daily, and I witness the crackle of light as it's streaks coat the sky.

We sing loud together,
and you are confident.

I am too,
and this revelation day, I stand strong in my power,
rain may fall, but I will never melt the way I did before,

and we can remember those tent nights fondly, and think, "He knew so much, a true yid."

yes, and more yesses, we still love the one who opened my eyes, but we couldn't be together and no, hiding is no fun.

So today I laughed so much and even in sickness I am glad, since I am the happiest I have ever been and this in truth is Torah at Sinai.

Madly in love with the one who guides me,
showing me every facet of the prism, and I like the color I'm in now,

my friends we will meet again here, and who knows the lessons upon the mount,
but like I said before to your big brown eyes,
freedom comes with struggle, and this too is blessing in all it's forms.

the new default

The farmer's market awakens today, reminding me of so many summers tasteless and sacrificed to the god of perfection.

Nostalgia of something greater; that summertime choke, haunts me no more.

The other day we played bocce on your lawn,
whiskey and motion,
you won, just like you wanted to.

And before, we adventure.
The car, the music, the wind, the sunglasses, the dreams, your face.

Ice cream.

Succulents.

Garden stores and dribbling raspberry pie.

I can feel it, since it's here, and nobody can say,
'not this year, maybe next'

Alive,
I've crawled out,
re-set button launched.

Hey YOU,
Hey Babe,
Hey, maybe we could communicate deeper and then we could really know the sand and stars!

I ran the other day, lost my breath, cursed aloud and said, "how did I get this bad?"

I dreamed last night that I ran swiftly and smoothly around the track,
not winded, pure and easy,


pure and easy.

That is it, and it's happening here.

Wild and re-wild and then go to the farm market with me and pick out the reddest raspberries.

I'm done with the old tale of pretend.

This is now, and it's here, and I don't lie anymore to make myself feel better.

Abs and all the thrusts,
say you love me,

whoa.

and many words in-between.

California is calling my name,
and I'm uncertain in that placement, but the waves soothe more, and maybe I'll ride by myself to the warm breeze.

perhaps, this time,
I will live exactly how I have always wished.

Maybe this becomes the default.

Welcome.

she already said it better

"
I could just simply say
I want you
and leave my mouth in your hand

"

"
You will drown
if you do not have
boundaries...

"

"

I fell apart many times
so
what does that say
about me
besides
I live through wars

"

"
Eyes that commit
that is what I am looking for

"

- Naayirah Waheed

The Opening

My hips, your knees,
and cracks are only cracks when you don't notice them,

and we notice them, and say, "Hey, that was me."

I cartwheeled around barefoot, ran races and said, "I will listen to you, you have value."

Your eyes glowed by the fire, grilling steak and I could see the fire inside you.

It's we, and I love it.

Somebody pinch me.

The day is here, it started without my knowledge, and I sang with no regret, It was smooth and on key, belting out, and I know, I know, I know why!

I sang out proud, saying,"Lord prepare me, to be your sanctuary,"

and I wonder still about the sacred and the spirit between us,
but our bodies are so insync, and our minds on the same wavelength, and they all say to us, "You two are really similar," and we laugh and smile, since we know it is truth.

We made waves and motions and I crave you.

Delighting here,
and openings are so alive,
you were a flat face, and I made a choice,
and months between so much was alive for us individually but timing is so crucial they say
and we were ready.

Here.
today.


We are something special and I'll hold it close, like I hold you.

blood orange

Penthouse you say,

or maybe the loft...?

Squeeze these hands and all that's left are the memories of joy bouncing in between tummies and that makes funny noises you know.

Secret languages are the way it goes, but we have treasure hunted long enough, and we know we are holding gold.

There are sapphires and diamonds in this one, and I get giddy just thinking about it.

 I'll hold on to it though for a moment, I'm not looking to cash in.

We talk of going hiking, camping, dreaming, wonder, magic, it's just so sweet.

I thank G!d for the moments and the tingles.

We collided in unison and I knew there would be an opening,
time always paves the way for such things.

Time and trust.

We held hands as we paraded down the swanky street, you looked so good, and I'm on your mind.

Touching.

Keep it.

Words are senseless if we do not use them,
so share, and be heard.

The eyes say more then we ever think they do.

Do you know yours are smiling with such pure delight?

And the smile too, it's always there, I keep anticipating that it will fade, but as I gaze, yours brightens.

Well then,
it can happen,
and it's not just me this time.

little blessings, and soon, we must recall, it's all about the third.
The greatness, the oneness, the creator of the dream we live in.

So I got a bloody blood orange and held it on my head since things seem dangerous but it's reversing roles and high school was better now, everything is on it's head, and what seems wrong is right, and they just wanted to help us anyways.

They asked, "who feels brave?"
and I raised my hand. I wanted to be first, I'm scared but I know i'll be fine, and so it goes,

always,

so it goes.

The Prisma Marker

I can't help but to cry.

You say you wore your brush tips out making squiggly lines.
Gray tones and all the colors,
but we are still waiting for the full rainbow glow to be available for us.
---
It wasn't so simple.
I cried in the art store.
I didn't even want him shopping with me,
I knew he would judge.

And I saw the pink prisma marker, I said, "I would really love that!"
But he never bought me gifts.

I said, "I would like this notebook too."
He said, "You don't need it"
then he got angry, like he so often did.

I eventually got that notebook and Pink Prisma Marker, but you didn't want to buy them for me.

You just didn't want me to cry.
It was the first 'gift' you bought me, and it was given from the lowest place.

Whenever I use that Pink Prisma Marker, I can't help but do a quick shake. It reminds me of you, and how you didn't like art. It reminds me of your lack of generosity, and the way you never understood my passion.
---
So when I talk with you about colors and playing in the prisma box, you light up.
You say, "I'll bring mine to share," and we delight in the stories of drawings, colors, shapes and lines.

And I cry,
Since this is new, and we have so much in common.

Bondage

We sit at the table,
each one of us a child, holding on to our archetypes from years ago.

Are you simple?
Are you wise?
Are you evil?
Are your words so stuck within that you have nothing to say but a soft coo?

At least we showed up.
There is another, circling the table, who knows there is a seat for them, but they are too full of pride to even share in the conversation.

And then there is one more, the wonder-filled child.
She is outside playing in the fire.
Her hair curls as she holds out her wine cup to spirit,
she thinks, 'this time, he will surely arrive',
but the screen door slammed shut,
and nobody else wanted to relish in the midnight blue clouds.

Her tambourine sends delight down her spine, and her hips start to shake.
She knows he is coming, the wind shifts and blows upwards,
miracles are here, and she smiles wide in her knowing. 

Which child are you tonight?

Unfurl the fiddlehead,
peel your blood orange.

klipah. klipah. klipah and all that junk.

We are the ones who tied ourselves up in bondage, it is only fitting to be the one to release it.
But our mouths are gagged, our hands limp and useless.

We call out from the inner depths.

There is an expansiveness that awaits -
what can man possibly do unto me?

So I wrote a tune, and sweetly caressed the wounds within.
Playing in the juxtaposition of space and time,
the spiral of everything.

Last year I cried deep loud moans in Death Valley,
I wanted you to hold my hand, to lean my tired body on your warm shell.

Instead, I fell over rock, you screamed at me, and the whole village awoke.

Here, I break free.

Where I enslave, I also open pathways.

"How is this moment unique and divine?
Sacred space and sacred time."

Chains get rusty and crack,
but this time, I hold the key.

The list

"put it on the list," we say and when we say that, we mean,
"let's prolong this courtship, I want to hold on to what is here and now."

It's growing, and it's growing fast, and we have much to accomplish before the sun sets.

We went to 3 different parks and I kissed you in all of them.

This is different, and it's slow.

Motions of what is to come, but here and now it's solid and steady and we laugh at how we got here.

Lots of talk, and you remind me of someone I used to love.

It's simple really.

So I try to balance a big blue ball on my feet and then I add the purple one, and they all come tumbling down but I'm just playing here so nothing can hurt me.

I said a long time ago, "I'm afraid I'm going to hurt you," and then I did, and badly.
But more so, I hurt myself. I didn't know.

So this time, it's steadying the tightrope and learning how to balance alone as I walk this narrow bridge.

We shall not be afraid, no we mustn't be afraid.

Another you told me you still have a residual crush on me and I keep getting texted by another who I clearly stated I was not into.

I don't get it at all and life is too damn funny.

But here I am, and sharing the laughs with you, and that's all I can say for now.

We make lists, and hope we get to cross some items off before we fade into each others' backgrounds.

Maybe the tree house in South America will have to wait, or maybe we will get there and live a long prosperous life, we just don't know, but the list might help us get there...

and this is the thought for the moment,

at least we will never die of boredom.
no, we got that one solved,
and smiley faces in hot soup are so damn good.
You smile and me too, and I just want to cuddle.

Buried Treasure

It's like hunting for buried treasure without the map.
We suppose we've found gold, but ramen noodles have kept many a man alive in deep suffering.

You hold my waist gently, I can feel the nerves and fear in your fingertips.
It's ironic that we met when we did, and I am thankful for the timing.

So a letter shows up at my door - and I start to shake.
Tears falling from my eyes so fast and I don't ever want connection with that fire again.

A thought popped in my head to tell you,
and then I think, no, I don't ever want to bring you into that internal mess -
it's PTSD for the moment, therapist confirmed, I say, I went to a Dr. yes, and I am so very healthy.

Truth and all the truths, it's just I don't need to share what isn't yours, and this time, I'm owning my mistakes, dealing with them, and moving on, with someone, and maybe you.

We talk of Pergatory, you've been before,
and so we adventure into the spaces between. I dreamed last night that you had two names and were using them as such, that second part of you so aligned with mine.
And then, I dreamed you were seeing someone else, it was casual, and so is this, but she was dumb, and blond, and we decided you were not who we thought you were.

My heart is so afraid to trust, so it makes up stories,
and maybe some are true,
we never know,
since when we ask, sometimes all that spills out are lies,

Yet you say you cannot lie.
I like the way this sounds.

And you met my family - It wasn't supposed to happen this way, but you didn't want to leave and our eyes kept gazing over meeting at the same times.

I suppose that's all it is really, eyes meeting and locking for a moment or eternity.
We can pretend it's something more, but fly up a few hundred feet in elevation and we realize, it's a blip of time, so surrender and be in constant gratitude for the one who brings us to this day, moving through the internal stuck places and flowing freely into the expansion.

And this is the day.
Sunny and ready to be awakened. 

Burning Flesh

This time I'm going to blame it on you,
and yet,
I think it in truth,
it was me.

It's been reminded that if I don't watch out, I might get burned.

So my skin peeled right off, because I like attention.

slow down,
this is the meaning.

The web of connections has grown, and some got lost along the way,
it's the way it works you know, and i've always read that twenty more will come,
but this time, I want to focus on one.

It is the bubbling of a newness, and newness is always better than stale bread, and things get stale around here and fast.

slow down.

In the rush and the jumping head first into crashing waves there is excitement and then the terrible slow drowning feeling and that's never quite the intention.

no, not here.

mysterious.

something that has never been so easy.

It goes like this:
"you are fun"
"you are different"
"I find you alluring"

yes, yes, I know.

and then,

we are planning adventures and activities and you talk about fashion, and I almost cry.
Everyone has that special something, and I can't help how my body wants to crash into you -

but last one went way too manic and I'm not sure what to make of it.

They say dogs emulate their owners,
and calm is perhaps a whole lot better than I thought.

What I mean to ask is,
how in this place do I stay above water?

Acai in bowls and 800 thread count T.shirts, there is an opening and my burning flesh is scabbing, the itching a grave reminder to trust body and say truths, always.

You say you cannot lie,
so let's
just
see.

Flowers in the attic

Flowers in the attic and other nostalgic finds.
Cleansing the liver never did much for me but the lemon water is always enticing and brown rice is better now when I think about it than before.

Hungry for this newness.
Awakened and allowing for the re-arrangement in mind.

So body took over since literal space is mental space and clearing began.
My altar now holds pyrite and I saged the shit out of my room.

Goodbye staleness.

I ripped up paper and made it look good, gold marker reminding me that I'm an adult and don't forget sexy!

He said that word popped into his head when I told him my vision.
Bringing back the sexy into the routine.

And I agreed so we hugged.

It always goes this way.

My energy was focused on me today not the other and it felt better than any candy digestion.
I stood vertical for the first time in many months maybe years, as the water poured down.
Standing my ground, I can do this.

My priestess sister calls.
We are loved beyond belief.

To do lists are full and plenty and ready for tomorrow to begin and yet tonight it all feels so easy.

"Let the beauty we love be what we do"

"What a wonderful world!"

And it is. So you texted me from the airport just to amuse this knowing,
and I didn't ingest any holly today since it's all about my growth and worry depletes and dilutes worse than any other substance I know. 

Separation

" Do you know that you are an adult? Do you know this?"

I stare at him.

My heart knows the answer but it's too hard to admit.

Shh, I think, I don't need to speak it outloud.
If I did, but it would mean things needed to shift and moving pieces are terribly hard to coordinate.

But I know it's time.

"Yes, I'm an adult."

So when we say thank you for distinguishing holy and profanity, we really mean thank you for the role I played for the past 24 years, now, the script has changed and characters moving.

The candle flickered in the hazy circle. Light droplets of rain but fire is strong.

We talk about that nasty fire that you threw at me and then I laugh in the tears since
It's so far removed and I never believed I could feel whole again.

I'm looking up at the sky since ripples come from all angles and everywhere is water.

He is right. I am not a child anymore.
Shifting this paradigm and then it becomes so clear.

Holy shit! It's so easy.

Wide eyed and trying not to feel that tinge of pain within.

One goal. Just one goal to achieve.

Home.
Place.
Belonging.
Apartment.
Phew.

6 months.
Own it.
Love it.
Be it.
Say it.
Share it.

And this is the work.
Mind is blown.

And I'm still me but stronger than before.

Stolen Cars

The wind whips against us,
so we try to root deeper into the rocks.

I fall backwards,
you fall forwards.

Waves and motions rolling towards us as you try to collect stardust,
but I'm already covered in glowing embers from somebody else's planet.

Words race out of our lips, too many laughs, perhaps to cover the strangeness.

You are covered in barbeque sauce, and you draw pictograms on styrofoam.

I go for the extreme but you are still intrigued, maybe I should have gone for the normal?

Our eyes are peeled on the parking lot, each lit light alivens a gaze, and if they stole our cars we would just go ahead and steal their truck, but then we are in this together, so maybe, not tonight.

It's really a hard one to know, so we will engage again and see if the film clears from the plastic,
and if not,
well,
there are so many more of you.

And later,
wildly raw conversations with another who I will never meet, and we said, "we are doing this again, that thing, you know, where we go there without knowing the chemistry."
But you live across the pond and it feels too good.

And at the same time,
wonderfully surprising texts and newness from another, and we will meet and soon. The charade has been playing for quite some time, and it's time, it is so time. Short shorts and all the kites, there is a pull, and I need to follow this string to source.

And at the same time,
my body is pulled to another, who is sleeping in a car with a girl on a highway. He is driving westward, and the thoughts are strong and deep. So we say, "Let's let it be what it is, and I like you a lot, and we jumped in real fast, let's slow it down for both of us." So we allow, and engage this, since the fire we created is so strong and trust is filled with nervous tension so I breathe out and let it be what it is since I can only trust my heart, and heart says, "it's a new feeling, see it through."

And at the same time,
empty and full. I cried my eyes out when I admitted the violence I inflict on myself. I do not give myself what I need. So I reach outwards grasping at moments and fleeting connections, since inside, well, it is hurting. The gummy bears are feeling more like jello and they've lost their strong muscular tone, and actually, I wonder if it's time for them to retire, since my thorn-filled crown doesn't match and I don't even wear that one well.

and,
fuck.

This was the night, and all the factions.

Little Gems

Sometimes people surprise you, just when you think it has hit new lows.
And I was your surprise.

It always starts with Sufi love poems, I think that's the only way for authenticity.
Because we knew we would never meet, the door swung wide open for vulnerabilty...
Tell me why this happens?

And if we were able to eye-gaze?
You said, I would cut the conversation off, before it had a chance to go anywhere, and leave you hanging...

I'd give ten thousand rubies for the effect to be changed.

Yet, here we are, relishing in delight at the opening, because there is no fear that we could get hurt.

Tell me why this happens?

Secrets spill out of mouth...I try to shove them back in, oh, no, not now, I don't even know you...
but, you find it interesting and are intrigued, so we continue in the depths, sharing answers and questions to what it is like to date and be.
open, honest, wild and raw.

Sometimes people surprise you and I was your surprise, so we handled it delicately, knew it was connection for the high of it, and let it be what it was...a blip in time.

I love conversations with strangers. We always feel so alivened through them and we crack open so much more, and then once we start to not be strangers anymore, the door closes and locks...
Do not hurt me, I scream...but I am screaming through the wrong door!

Alas, alas, it is the way and only way, to push through the fears and knock the door down.
Tangles, they call them.
I prefer to call them knots, since knots don't undo without some help, and my comb is too wide and it hurts, you know, it hurts scalp and then tears rush out and then what good are we?

So here I am in the juxtaposition of it all.
You have moved your status from 'new' to 'dear friend', and that has changed everything here internally, for you as well as me, I know. Your actions are far easier to understand and I don't understand any of it right now. Stressed is bull-crap. I want truth.

Blahing, and blahing in my head and today I said, NO. Today is for me, but somehow I'm still going to see you tonight since then perhaps it will all become clear, or perhaps more muddled, but either way something will occur.

Ah, but we take with us these little gem moments that creep up and then leave us, just as a memory fades on the sands so too do I treasure the memories that have yet to be washed away.

copy write this, since I stole your lines now and will continue to do so forever.

Dialogue is just that, and I have more words up my sleeve, darling.

riding fast

Behind and again it's still the same,
as I race my legs to follow you but you are on a completely different energy level.

I say, "You are like me on crack"...

You say, "I'm calm, you've seen me calm".

Yes, but this is strange.

And then,

No's a no, even if it's said delicately, so I balled eyes out, and said, "Damn it, I'm starting from scratch again".

I wanted to call you but decided it was better to stay lonely with flat faces -
so I make plans with someone new,
and hope you'll call me later -

Afraid to cry to you.

What would that mean?

And we said, okay, you like me , I like you, let's leave it out there plain and simple.

Don't make this something that it's not -

Oh boy,
embarrassment and nobody knows how to fucking spell.

The lights get dim,

My arm is aglow, and we rock and roll, since it's fun and we want to.

But today I feel like a loser.
I said it.

The baby doll and the rocks don't do much anymore.
The laundry is piled high, and the shower can only wash away so much.

Tomorrow is another day, so today I seep into a fantasy world of money and belongings, and other people's problems that are so much greater than my own, but I would like to pay for a meal out, and not think twice, so it looks good enough for me.

Why do we not go out together?

and so many other questions,

Glow-in-the-Dark

I thought about you all day yesterday.
You called me twice yesterday and I missed both calls.
This is irony.
---
Ground dear she told him.
And she really needs to say that to herself.
---
I am a glowing star, and sometimes the darkness hides that light.
---
You say pensivity, I call bullshit.
---
It's an obsession, infatuation, wonder, worry, and grief in so many ways.
---
Why does my mind play pretend?
---
Oh the stories in our heads, make me deaf until I am dead.
---
They never really see the whole of it, and that's the fear.
---
I am turning over and over and over in bed, and all I see is your smile.
---

So I put on fake tattoos and hope it all lights up the night when I see you.

calla lilies

The calla lilies are soaked in wine, but so are my lips.
They rubbed off on you and that was a younger version of me's dream, so we let it happen and then we stopped it, and the purple is still so purple.

Remembering that basement and the secrets we shared there.

So I sat next to an old flame and old friend.
Sometimes all you need is time to flatten the wrinkles, and so we pressed our sheets and could smile and laugh again, and this is maturity.

The morrocan melodies turned our shoes inside out and I jumped in my 6-inch heels so many times I might have flown up and away with the impact.

But all I can do is smile with my wine lips.

The whiskey loosens windows, and fresh air flows through and they all love me.

But today is not about me or my exagerated lies and wanderlust tales.
No, today is about two other hearts, and a union of love.

So we sang to you and held your hands and all you asked for was water with a straw.

Easy

And now
It all settles in.

Red wine stains and I might have spilled, so clean up this mind, heal the hearts of all involved nothing is anything anyways.
Remembering that basement and the way your eyes lingered on each other.

"If I could be with her forever, I would be the happiest man alive."
These words were spoken to me, witness of the love, witness to the growth and wonder that comes with fresh eyes and bubbling hearts filled with passion.

We all wore red glasses last night, they were shaped like hearts and it reminded me of all the ways I see the world.

So here it is.

The epilogue.
End scene.

My part is complete and now just like the calla lilies, it will wither away just leaving a sweet but faint smell in its parting.

tilt -a- whirl // this or that

This or that you say, but I know this game well.

You know, to always have connection.

Who are you?

Hammocks, soft serve ice cream, road trips, plays, tree house DIY'd by us, and all the rest that binds us in a yes this is it.

So today we grabbed breakfast before you went to work,
London is in a deep fog, but you still like me, and we walk by the river.

the playground finds us, and we play, but of course.
Tilting and whirling and you don't like roller coasters.

So we jet off in a speed boat, adrenaline, yes, mastermind plans, goofy somethings and always a hop in the step.

giggle here, because I boiled a mouse but you are afraid of spiders so in this or that we really have no comparison.

Something to get me through the day or is it getting even brighter?

The sun rise means we have the whole day ahead of us, and sunset is my favorite show.

I'll be onstage, and you can feed me the lines, something tells me you want to be up there too.

I'll get paid to sell expensive flowers and you can create dream homes and at night with the music soft, and candles lit, we can discuss in laughter and tones all the funny bits of the day and as the water of the shower washes over us, we can remember that memory of lung talk and how you'd do me so well .

Well, it's just a day, and a day becomes more when there is connection, and connection has been made and this or that is more than I could ever ask for since I've been asking for it my whole life, and I didn't have to ask this time.

it's like you just know.

and that is why I'm whirling, currently.

Luxury

What is luxury with no bill attached?

It's lavender in full bloom, fragrant and purple buds spilling seed that ease tension within.

It's you rooting for me from the sidelines, even though you just met me.

It's that heart skip and the gushy feeling in my stomach when you text me pretty little nothings.

It's moving at a speed that feels in concert with my values, self-assured and non-force.

It's the pick-me-ups, the laughter, and the deep connection of just knowing that presence is being held in my honor.

It's the green of a leaf, the sun's warmth on my back, the feeling of driving too fast on a highway with the music too loud.

It's trusting in the flow, the right-action and the taupe colored nails.

It's symbols and signs and leaps into the hills, no helmet, no net.

It's asking for a date, pitted and sweet, and getting a whole date tree, ladder and hands to hold me up.

It's poems sent to my inbox because I had a moment of weakness, and hoorays in my honor for being the very best me I can be.

It's saying, "I want to see your pretty face," and the plans that follow.

It's having someone care, that before a week ago, didn't know my name.

I'm swimming in luxury without the bill and it's more splendid than a decadent chocolate torte.

The lavender is wild here, it grows under our feet and around the bed. I think and then I am, the ashwaganda has eased my mind, anxiety floating nowhere near, and I'm running full speed ahead with my heart in my hands saying, YES, YES, YES and bless this very day!

 

comfortable

You say, "It's really comfortable with you, like really easy"
I agree,
and we stare deeper into these new eyes that are filled with so much wonder and so much unknown.

Yours are hazelnut cream, transparent and sparkling.
I think you've said 10 times how beautiful my eyes are, a solar eclipse, but I see flowers,
and of course.

You keep saying, "Sweetheart", and it's strange since I placed a pink 'sweetheart' with the word 'YES' imprinted on it, on our fire altar.

It lingered there through all the prayer, tears, screams, constipation, laughs, hugs, dancing.

And then, when it was time to go, I slipped it in my pocket, and now, here it lays sugary and sweet by my bedside, as you text me "goodnight, sweetheart".

and you would never have known,

but nobody has called me that before.

You said, "We must have already loved each other before we met, that's the only explanation"

Ears perk, eyes narrow in (cookoo? or truth filled?)

but shapes only fit in holes already carved out for them, and we've been carving our perfect shapes for months.

so, maybe,
you have a point.

You call me today, even though you are sick.
You want to know how I am, how my progress is going.

I tell you the good news, you light up.
And you praise me. Wow, how you praise me!

When I see you, you lift me up, with that hug, kiss, lift that I always wished for and never got.

My discernment bracelet fell off,

it might be in your bed.

Easy kisses, and lingering moments, minutes, seconds that feel like forever.

Something is moving the time, and our fingers dig deeper into each others backs.

yes, yes, we are present.

I say, "I'm not thinking, with you, I don't have to think!"

My whole body curious,
my whole being free and silly.

Goofy and unleashed, and that's my recipe for connection.

So we laugh together in bed,
and say, "That was a really good minute we just had, wasn't it?"

Fire and fairies

Mcnab Cyprus resin, florets from the manzanitas and white sage growing abundantly underneath.
I followed bellybutton through your enchanted fairy filled forest to a clearing.
The sun was setting. White sage rising from the wet land.
A heart was formed by someone else's hands with these wise rocks.

I followed gut to source of love.
Symbols and more and this is the calling.

Behind me a loud noise.
Wild cat perhaps, I look around.
The other priestesses are near, yet, this is my alone time.

No, flutter, we shall not be afraid.

And up above in the tree top, sipping on golden nectar, a hummingbird.
Vibrant wing flutters, loud mouth lover, passion drools from her,
Again and again we find ourselves in celebration together.

And then I didn't want to be alone.
So I told you we could find more fairies and we hopped and stepped lovingly through your left-brain path.
Sunset and moon rise.
Father, mother, earth and sky.

Pink, purple, red, and black.

Sinking in to the unknown.

More chocolate.
Many words exchanged.

Fire circle.
Too many songs I don't know.
Stars and Jupiter.

Vulnerability.
The whole entire world is in the weaver's hands,
I think I'll follow the abundant string,
Don't be afraid of it.

Don't be afraid of it.

Don't be afraid. 

The gift

I stood by the maiden, she said, "no, sweetness, I am not what you need right now. Go journey towards the queen, her medicine is potent, your heart is ready!"

So I bowed low to the queen, her pine needles in my hands, and I said, "ouch."

But remembered your voice cooing us, saying, " let them be symbols before your eyes..."

Gold imprints on my forehead and you said, "this way isn't easeful, it is hard and it can hurt"

Yes, Queen.

"I have seen you journey through the mountains to find me, now you are here, you are ready to receive. "

The angelic voice of healing began her orgasmic hymnal, tears now streaming through me.

I am ready.

You lay upon my head a crown of Rose thorns. Only the branches and prickers.

I wonder where the flower is.

And then in my hands you place a single rose, it is red, it is small.

I look at it and it starts to grow, petals shifting, blossoming, multiplying until my hands are filled with a full bouquet of roses in all your magestic colors.

This is my gift:

To know that sacred strength means owning the power of the thorn. My hands are abundant with beauty, alchemizing the ordinary always into the extraordinary.

I kiss your stone, your feet, your truth.

You've blessed me on this day.

I've been welcomed in and initiated into the queen-dom by the highest and holiest queen herself.

My body lays prostrate, no, stand up tall and wear this crown proud. Nobody needs to see it, but I will know it is there guiding my choices, holding my strength. 

Wisdom

Like throwing heads over the the city walls?
Something like that, it's about feeling the pulse of the society.
Truth seeking, owning, being courageous and unafraid.

Oh, I think I get it.

She is a tree of life, she has been here since before creation, playing with the globe, bouncing and tumbling and watching it fall and form.

So we sit watching you tell us stories of wise women before you.

Honored and honoring.

The lunch bell has rang.

More nourishment or maybe just a filler.

YOU OPEN UP THE GATES OF TIME

Shaking.
Quaking.
Head banging.
We scream out to you, as the drum beats faster, harder, deeper into our souls.

Welcoming the evening, the new day.
Honoring your distinctions,
Day and night rolling backwards, light and dark mingling in this bliss.

Our bodies are thriving, writhing, beating out truth.

YOU OPEN UP THE GATES OF TIME!

And then
Roaring laughter.

Medicine.

Pureness.

The alchemy of childlike delight.

And my body is a circus.

We've confirmed it.

Rocking and rolling the smiles widen, the giggles and ibbigablibbgan.

Leftovers.

What has goddess gifted you today?

Sisterhood and widening perspectives.
The doorway is wide open and the threshold is near.

It clicked today for her, and soon, yes, soon it will click here too. 

The Fool

But be careful where you bite your tongue, there is medicine in all of this.
The wind rattled our cabins last night, the pot is being stirred.
I knew it would happen, I just didn't know it would be this early.

Tired eyes and ears touched by too high elevation.

If you forget to sing and laugh you have lost the whole purpose of prosperity.

They fed us greens but my stomach is ravenous.
What am I hungry for?
Certainly something far deeper than that lemon ginger chocolate bar.

Surrender.

Appointments have been made now let that beautiful body rest.

Let it all go.

Since we know in truth we are perfect in every form and these feelings are perfect too.

We laughed together but not enough, my wholeness not completely filling up the space between where bone meets muscle.
Breathe in me more.

When I close my eyes and see the breath it's candy colored, circus themed. Acrobats and trapeze artists, cotton candy and jello. I believe this is my insides.

I forgot mini gummy bears, those are there too floating around my head, but you remember that don't you?

We dipped latex hands in bleach, I still reek of latex...

We cuddled on the the floor the four elemental candles lit before us, the queen stands tall on her wooden altar.
The wise woman is behind me, her mossy branches long and strong.

And the fool, she is dressed in bubblegum pink. She hands out toys and condoms, she invites us to play.

We are afraid of her liberation. We are inspired by her liberation.
She holds irreverence, she does not know but trusts in the zero space between when it all seems to end and the bud reborn.

She giggles and trips us as we walk through her doorway, turn us inside out and it's not just joy it's necessity.

Play goddammit, play!

So our tired eyes reach out for her but she has gone.
We cannot find her, her elusiveness tricked us again.

No, we must not hold on to her but rather find her within ourselves.

And we energy work-shopped our bodies, I am grounded, I am whole.

Oh to be in wonder with the sacred.

Oh to fool and trick and delight in nothing and everything!

Bliss is the prayer, the only prayer.

So cartwheel into blissness - it is time!

Saliva on Pine

The daffodils are in bloom.
My sinus aches, it never does.

I thought the frequency has changed, now I'm not so sure

And yet,
I am here.

This community of priestesses, lovers, ecstatic beings.
This community of mourning women, queens, wise elders and fools.

We brought down the moon last night in ritual.
Shared our collective dreams into the basket upon waking.

Allah, Allah, allah we chant, because God is oneness and this is the work.
Listen all who wrestle with higher powers, those who try to make distinctions and are afraid.
There is only one God, the God of all creation. All is equal, all is love.

We broke the barriers, shattered walls on our red tapastry. Sufi drummers and dear beloveds.
She asks if she has permission to whirl,
Granted.

So she does.

The room is rising, but we have no walls since they broke them down.
We are weeping tears of joy, grief and praise.

This is the healing.

And as I venture out to the sun I realize I have no words to pray.

So I spit on a pine needle, my hangnails burn.

That's all it is I say to my self, "saliva on pine,"
It never makes sense
Until we breathe together
And there is no difference
Between us.

Shams is the dear friend.
We are the messiah.

"Pretty Outrageously Hot"

The aftermath:

Pink confetti on pavement, plan B and somebody is holding your head as you weep.

No.
Not for me.

Boundaries were set, I cleared my test.
In this growth I know intrinsically what will be good for me and what is just smoke and mirror tricking me into self-worth.

Of course, it would have been fun.
It always is,
But then the headache and joint pain later.
The tired eyes and the text that never comes.

So I delighted in the hunt, transparent about intentions.
It made it so much better to be honest.

And I really racked up a list of potential lovers.
This time I really am sad this place isn't for me.

I said, "I like your hair"
Invitations to wine and you and all I could do was smile.
Since that's how it goes now.

Yes, it's still covering up a hole that needs to be fixed with inner soul work,
And it's blowing up my courage and self-esteem.

If we all try to stay honest we could really make something happen.

You told me I was stunning.

All I can do is say, "thank you."

I'm beaming from within and soul radiance is certainly pretty outrageously hot. 

The truth cavern

The deep desiring is real.
Sprinkles look better rainbow colored and this city is full of crack junkies and smells of piss.

Something feels off, more so than usual.

It's -8 degrees across the country, frozen light switches but warmer bodies.

I'm stuck in my own stuckness and it's not going anywhere if I don't let it.

Sick of moving. Sick of leaving. Sick of not owning my own space where happy habits flourish.
The sink here is rusty, the floor covered in dust, the kitchen hasn't been cleaned, and I say to myself, "if I lived here I would clean, I want a place to call home."

Remember we take care of the things we love.

My breast is swollen, head bursting, oh dear lord, what trauma we've moved through.

Yes, the desire is real, I'm not texting a love mush to anyone, I'm sending it straight to this soul within, saying, darling dearest you are more gold than any sugar plum I ever ate. You are majestic and glory crowned. You taste of fresh picked mushrooms, exotic specialties, stars and mochi. Your eyes glow radiant, your heart a chrysanthemum lei, your lips are tinged with champagne that's why they effervesce on my tongue. Words to you are friends from other countries. You love with your whole being, you sing like the moon full and round. In you I've found my mansion and my shack. In you I so delight and giggle. Some days all you see is a cracked mirror and knotted rope but I am here to tell you to look closer, look inside, be inside, live in the luscious caverns of your soul, this is the truth palace, this is the comfort you so desperately crave. It's home and it's g!d, now what else would you like to know?

Eat a donut, but fill the hole

An old wound but the scab is gone.
We drove past our old streets, no tingle, no remorse.

Numbness hit, a chill of too many unsaid words and then the pounding headache only Rosemary can cure.

Resulting in this present day: sun-filled, splattered in pink and red, sprayed roses in windows and mushy love oozing out all over the place.

And this is my love: holding strong and intentional boundaries, fearlessness, boldness, entering into the unknown knowing, smiles at strangers and welcoming in new faces.

There is birth, there is miscarriage.

What is it I want to see through?

Who do I want to be as I see it through?

Every moment a decision: dicernment still wraps around my right wrist, it's getting tattered, it's helped so much.

Questioning intentions. Lack of determination, contentment and depression. Sometimes they mask each other, I never quite can tell.

So the Sunday morning farmers market will be filled with lovers holding hands but those hands that fit snuggly hold so much within.

Pain, attachment, fears of abandonment, idol worship.
And some,
Wonder, creation, blissfullness, dreams, abundance.

We just never know, so calm the mind, eat a donut and adorn yourself.

Love is only love if it feeds you to the core, and my stomach is rumbling,
I've got inner work to do.

Modern Day Love

NOW NO BOUNDARIES ONLINE

AGE 25-33

PLAYERS

DEBAUCHEROUS, EDGY & TRUE LOVE

FRIDAY NIGHT

8:00PM

I LOVE HANDS ON THAT HARD BODY

NEVER A DROWSY NIGHT

---

is this love in the modern age of app dating?