an aside

dear life,

you are throwin a sista a SERIOUS curveball right now.

i don't think i like it.

i'm trying to accept it. you know i have a bit of a control thing going.

i suppose...i'm just trying to understand. full circle i get. this? this is...beyond that.

gimme a clue?

thanks,

o.

void 2

every day
without touch
i feel the vault door
creak closer to closing...

{part 1}

distinction

my bliss may not look like yours. 

it may sound strange that i need to remind myself of that, but it's the classic empath trap. hearing and seeing what makes others happy can translate into a vicarious bliss that, once faded, reminds you that you weren't really following your heart, you were noticing someone else's.

and you're back to square one.

most times you don't even realize what's happening...until you crash.

elemental

i have a watery, sweet soul:
calm, cool, collected,
plenty of patience.

most are content to simply swim in the ocean...

but there's fire here, too.

an underwater volcano: quiet, but still active
contained only by the element surrounding me.

my worlds are created deeply, sometimes violently;
built from tsunamis, earthquakes, and lava spouts
seen only by the most skilled and adventurous divers.

a new connection...

as i experienced this, i didn't realize this:

Xochiquetzal was honored at a festival every 8 years. A young woman was chosen by artisans to impersonate the goddess; she would be sacrificed, flayed, and her skin given to a man to wear while pretending to weave. Artisans would dance around the scene and then confess their sins to a statue of Xochiquetzal through bloodletting. She was also one of the goddesses impersonated during the Toxcatl festival, ritually married to a young man and kept in luxury for a year before being killed.

was that vision an alternative version of the luxury before the sacrifice? 

...or is it possible my vision predates the days of sacrifice?

i've learned to question the histories we're left with, if for no other reason than many weren't articulated until the various conquerors came.  there are centuries to know before that; centuries lost to dirt, water, air and other powers.

sometimes our soul-memories are the realest ones. even if they are the least-believed.

embodiment

i don't always recognize this package i'm in.

it feels smaller than it has in a long time--certainly the smallest since puberty. still, i'm aware that folks outside of me still consider me quite tall and decidedly not-small.

my body's become more utilitarian, lighter. i am carrying only what i need, no more. the proverbial fat has been trimmed away, even if i can still pinch decent finger-fuls of it around my torso and thighs.

this has happened slowly, almost silently; an unintended side effect of some very intentional work.

i do not find this lightness of being unbearable. instead, it's a phenomenal blessing.

return

this has been waiting
patiently
for me to sit still
and let it go...

to acknowledge
and name it
although
it defies description.

i could be staring down
the answers of a thousand prayers;

witnessing the drying
of an ocean's worth of tears...

it wants to be claimed.

i want to be sure.

need
to be sure.

grateful in the meantime,
fearful in the knowing:

love
might live here
again.

reaching for the sun

words can't do this.

everything i could say about you feels cliche and tired. empty descriptions that can't possibly express the warmth of your arms or the sugar in your smile.

it's difficult to write poems for you.  i'd rather be a poem for you: something uplifting or pretty to hear; something to memorize and carry with you.

would you mind?

using my words

been dancing with some writer's block lately...trying to figure out what to write, how to write it, how to make it make sense...

but i've also been made newly aware of how words can show support, effect change, and share ideas.

that's pretty inspiring.

the exact manifestation eludes me, but i'm more keenly aware that i have work to do.

linen

i had
to change the bed;

the sheets
looked too empty
without you.

the audacity of hope

i.

after taking
the first step
(dreaming together in
wide arcs and
fanciful possibilities),
we crafted a brief reality
filled with long kisses and
sweet smiles.

ii.

i'm at a loss
to describe what i felt
and what i'm feeling.

but i know the words
i long to hear you say
and what i'd do
to be worthy of them.

this moment

releasing the love that didn't happen
to embrace the loves that can.

in passing...

returning from a visit to see mother, i wandered by a tree with very unusual leaves.

its roots were twisted and tangled and seemed a little bunched up, all but straining to respect the boundary of the sidewalk.

(i can only assume they weren't happy when it was built, but have since resigned themselves to the exchange: a little bondage, to live)

i thought, "hello. i've never seen a tree like you before..."

i sensed a faint but audible reply: "few who pass here think those thoughts or speak to me..."

that nearly stopped me cold, but i had to move on. still, i took a moment to send it some loving energy.

next time i walk that way, i'll stay awhile.

hearts & stars

for lf

1.
curious cats
joined by sun and moon
and nearly as far apart.

i enjoy the effervescence
of zero gravity orbit,
but pray
for an eclipse.

2.
circumstance is a strange thing.
it seems to stand in the way
when, actually,
it slowly, sweetly
opens spaces and bides time;
makes room for revelations and
well-timed whispers.

defining desire

sometimes my desire is so big, deep and wide, i can't imagine asking any mortal to satisfy it. 

i wouldn't know how to ask...

the physical is the most obvious. and fun.
but then you have to capture my heart.
and my spirit.

my mind is always aching to be fed, tickled, sweetened and challenged.

i hunger for meaning. 
for substance.
in everything.

there are no coincidences here.
no chance meetings or occurrences.

i desire with a passion that both intices and terrifies. attracts and repels. intrigues and intimidates.

i am deep.
and wide.

and i've stopped feeling sorry about it.

now, i'd just like to be filled.
slowly.
patiently.
with an intent to cultivate our seeds
and reap a fantastic harvest.

drawing down the moon

easing into understanding and settling into sensations brought on by nascent superpowers...

costume change {napowrimo '11, #15}

home means
wrapping myself in a sarong;
moonstone beads hanging
between warm breasts.

moment #3587

he has the beautiful habit of fitting into unlikely spaces to cuddle with me, fitting himself into/next to me like a warm, brown appendage.

i feel his pulse; different, but still like my own. it deeply interests me. i enjoy watching it flow through his neck as he rests.

if i kiss it, he smiles.

i'd forgotten these gifts that men bring.

note:

do not decry my lack of "femininity" when you hold me awkwardly, afraid of your own heart.

model tenderness, and maybe i'll show you my spirit.

today.

giving thanks.
absorbing.
reflecting.
listening.

dancing to the songs in this moment and wondering where the steps are leading me. what the sound is teaching me.