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Body of Water

Body of Water

Missing you is an endless wave, full to breaking with ebbing and flowing.
My heart is a stone, beat-beat-beating the waves.
A hum and hush of the surf, your steady lungs breathing me in.
Lips meeting like the surf among the sand, tiny bits of glass shimmering on your tongue.
They slice my heart open, love exposed, like the tender sea foam spilling out into our midst. 

Waves of my hips, rolling toward heaven.
The arch of my back, a cave for our haven.
Your eyes like the depths of the ocean, green and stormy and searching.
I am the hawk overhead, seeking a place to lay. I am the golden watery floor, always deep in your touch.
You call to me, a brine of words most needed. I seek you out, sweet waters from the depths.

Fathom after fathom, a graph of lines. Weaving up and down with the speed of my heart. Radiation in my bones, set of flesh storms that rage upon you.
The curl of your fingers, gripping the beach.
Your overflowing, your filling, your viscous touch.
My skin layed out, a cove of safety. Your thoughts like little boats, tied to the shore.
Your sun drenched skin, the winds in your dark hair. The sound of thunder in my chest.

You are vicious, as am I, but gentle in your bones. The patient, steadiness of ripples. The crash and beauty of hurricanes. The eye spinning round and round, piercing my mind with your calm need. You are around me, I am the waters rising up. Sky and earth becoming one, water reaching for water. Rain and wave.

Oh how your shades morph, green blue white. I see the dark and the light. I see the current of your stomach, the rocky cliff of your shoulders. The gulf of your collarbone invites me to stay.
I feel the danger of the it all. I feel the panic. But I cannot help myself. I must swim in that ocean. I must bathe in your wake.
We are the storm. We are the tide. We are danger.

We are love.


Give and Take

Give and Take

Take a read.

Take a listen.

Take my heart, my hands, my kissing.


Take away this shallow regret,

Of sleepless nights

Of lonely beds.


All the times hope fell down

Upon the rocks of mortal grounds.

Like feral hands of children learned

They do not have their love returned.


Oh how fragile full hearts grow,

The love for you you’ll never know.

One small prick sends waves abroad

To ships that sail with weapons drawn.


Thistle, bramble, weeping vine

That drank my blood when we entwined.

Upon the hedge I left my mark,

My lily body both cold and stark.


How I waited, how I groaned

With demand of kings who’d been dethroned.

My high tower a blatant example

Of why men give up what they can’t handle.


How they must bow in gracious pleasure,

For his mere presence to them is treasure.

But I am wolf, not a sniveling dog,

With pride I choose a prince, not frogs.


So with heed, do take my face

Upon my lips set your embrace

Teach to me what love might mean

When it’s more than a clever scheme.


I give to you my fox’s eye,

A sharp coal burning, a wily fire.

My jovial leaping, my arching back

A moan, a bite finds what I lack.


How lovely the way you lower me down,

A flushed sheet, security found.

Within your mind, you tell it all.

A stroke, a scent, a chemical draw.


My autumn hair,

My spring light lips,

The sweep of your

Rough hands on hips.


Warmed with passion

Built on flames

Fine as promises worn with age.


Breathe in deep,

Message expressed,

A musical note upon the flesh.

The Galaxy Mage

The Galaxy Mage

Dew on your blackened nose.
Creature of fire
Eyes of coal.
Burning down deep in my soul.

You are the flame that
Lights up the dusk
Flickering dance
My eyes follow, entranced.

Oh your warmth, fur whisping up and around the shallow set branches of fern.

Oh your quickness, foot silent and firm upon the uneven bed of barley thickness.

Follow your trail into the wood.
White tipped tail
Midnight foot
Bounding over steam and root.

You slip between these aged trunks.
Ghost of twilight, guardian.
Misty woodland sage
Solitude is your only wage.

Oh the envy of your jealous fellows, watching from thicket, voices bellow.

Oh the joy of a feet like wind, the mimic of undergrowth pounded by kin.

Like Loki, you keep
One foot in the shadows
One in the light
Soul of mischievous delight.

You flick your tail
Combustion spells cast
Lighting up the ethereal greys
The blue light playing on my face.

Oh how your spell does bind, mage of wisdom drunk with wine.

Oh the twisting of your tricks, celestial whirling aged and thick.

Laughing as you go
Trailing off into the dark
The shadows caught within your fur
Sly lupine face, seemingly demure.

Off you go, little light-foot
The hungry woodland waits for you.
A galaxy caught within your eye
Oh what a little, clever disguise.

The Beast

The Beast

The animal within grows anxious

A pacing beast of claw and teeth

Eyes fixed, eyes deep, eyes hungry

A mouth bites like scythe meeting the flesh of plums

Strong, fierce, my bones desperately gnawing against yours


Legs leap finding grip in your shoulders, your hips

They tangle, wrapped snakes and tiger tails; whipping; twitching

Sat on top, prey caught, looking down upon a flushed face

Reaching in, salt on the skin, a flourishing tongue


Oh the sweetness of surrender.

Oh the sweetness of success.


Biting into your neck, my prey, my catch.

Like a beast feeding upon your noises. Your touch. Your warmth within.

Breath escapes, careening out like a billow of soul.

Searching for a place to land, hide, arching towards heaven

My mouth captures it, essence flowing in, becoming part of me


Bodies coming together, apart

Magnets, planets, trapped in each others force and field.


Oh, the ending. Salving my thirst, that hunger

Freed from my belly, like an eagle forcing wings

Out. Out from my mouth, a cry like the howl of Wolf.

Groaning against the weight of the stars

Exploding within my bosom, little fizzing blossoms

Shooting across your midnight eyes.


My mouth on your neck, on your mouth

Breathing in your exhaustion, your satisfaction

Wet from my swim in that deep water of your spirit

Licking up the dew drops that fell upon the open

Field of your nape, the wave of your lips, curling down




Little moments of stolen joy,

Forgotten lives crawl upon my face

Itching it up and into a smile

White teeth bright to blind anyone looking deeper.


Oh, how weak strong can be,

So tired and weary from holding it all up

Like Atlas, world upon my back

Weeping and sweating with the weight.


How can I be brave?

When I never learned to fly

Only falling for every sly ploy

A piece of sky shattered onto the ground.


Legless traveler, reach on

Out into the world with heartstrings and joy

Finding your innocence with blind hands

Taught not to see your beauty.


Eyes close, slipping tears into my pillow

Smugglers of sadness out into the abyss

Leaving me empty in the daylight

Free to smile again.

Love Grows



I wonder how far away love grows. I wonder what green earth it does spin. A thousand tiny vines like veins plumping under the dirt and driving themselves on to some heart, some life. They pump, grow, wind through the strength and hardness of life. They carry the life blood, love’s sweet song. A melody as tiny and silent as blood rushing in those thread-like peripherals, worms burrowing underground. They travel. Twisting, carrying themselves around and through. The white bone trunks pushing up and away to the heavens, warm within their evergreen grasp.

I wonder how far love goes. Does it cover an alien earth, somewhere where the green has overtaken? Where love is true and absolute? This wrapped and tangled womb of heartbeat and rebirth. The replication of miniature branches, netting, knitting themselves into a blanket of ease and knowing and contentment. Oh the wonder of love. A forest so dense. A sky so infinite. A river so wide.
I wonder where the veins travel. Do they bring the love to my heart? Or do they carry it away? Does my love age within their midst; or is it my love that ages those delicate creatures of beat and warmth?

What daydreams are these? Warm and dizzy in the sun of a sleepy afternoon. The dandelions float around in the honey warmth. I lay in the grass and listen, listen to their slow trails through the air. The soft hum as they part the breeze. Every sound, every tickle of their fuzz like lighting against my skin. They careen around me and I am surrounded alone. I lay within magic. I lay within forever. The cool, emerald grasses. The tall, full trees. The lazy meander of dust. I lay there and dream of hands holding mine, a whisper in my ear, a heartbeat under my cheek.

There’s no forgiveness in my bones. No beauty. No regret. Only this deep growing, needing. Curling vines towards the sky. Love grows very far I think. Love grows to the heavens and back, like some fairytale beanstalk. It carries love down from that place of light and bolded sounds. It carries the bundle it made; a cocoon; an egg. Drenched in vine. Wrapped in impenetrable green. Held in the hand like a newling. Grown to the height of the stars.
How dizzy we are from that high place, falling so swiftly we may faint with such complete rapture. The thought of flying. The picking of a guitar. The quiet of a new dawn still damp with dew and chill.

If love is anything, it is the one thing that grows without our permission. Hope must be believed, happiness is conditional, and truth is cultivated. But love. Sweet love. It is grown and keeps growing without our consent. It is a live thing that cannot be seen, as a tree or a daisy can be. It is seen through the shimmer of an eye, the touch of a hand, the smile of a lover. Love is alive within us. It is a moss on the surface of our stone hearts, plush and constant. It is a warm blanket on a cold morning. It is truth among lies. It is. It is alive.

This is how far love grows, I think. This is where love recedes. Only into the deep reaches of the heart, or else grown tall to an unknown celestial seat of moon and suns and the spinning of a thousand other days. This is how far away it is. So far you must search, so close you can touch it within your bosom if you wished. This is how large love is. So small you must whisper, so big you must be heard and shout. This is why. Because it is the deepest need we own, so foreign and yet so ordinary that it has been stolen from others lips. Because it demands to be known, to be felt, in order to be human. In order to find and know our place in this world. In order to touch the beyond and have it speak back to us.

“I have heard you. I know you. I love you. Come.”

And we grasp that beyond with both hands, hoping and trying. We can grasp love. We can touch it.

Find love. Love grows.

I Hate You, Old Feelings

I Hate You, Old Feelings

Stop now! This post is in no way uplifting, encouraging, or inspiring. This post is simply me, whining and barking and fussing over the same stupid stuff. Nobody wants to be that friend, and no one wants to have that friend, so you should stop now.


If I could just forget, I could stop hurting.
If I could just find some way to not care.

Cause I want to know. Its compulsive. It’s better to know, right?
It’s such a deep hurt. An addiction of sorts. His touch. A look. Days where thoughts have me reeling, anxious and dizzy and swarming.
And he’ll be out there tomorrow. Out there but out of reach. Out there with her. She’ll touch him and he’ll touch her and they’ll have a quiet moment together. Warm against each other’s skin in the brisk night air.
I wonder if he knows. I feel dumb, absorbed and used. I hate it, and hate myself for feeling it. Especially when all his faults are beyond obvious, they’re practically outspoken.
Especially when he’s everything I most assuredly don’t need. Especially when he really just can’t be what I need and shouldn’t be what I want.
How it must feed his ego. How it must make him grin and smile. To see me as I am. To know the agony it causes, and know I stand confused. How he must strike close to joy every time he hears the kids cry. How he must revel in it, a cool drink on a hot day. He must feel it all the time. This town is built for it.

It’s not me. It’s not 23-year-old behavior. It’s not the thought process of a mother of 2. Or any sane person. I hate him for it. But in realizing it’s not his fault I can’t. I suppose I hate him for being who he is, and that’s not fair…is it?

I look to the skies and cry out: why? Why, for I don’t understand. Why because I’m not “me” in all this.
This isn’t me. I’m not this..needy. This terribly soppy, weak person. I’m not normally prone to holding on in this way. I’m the one who walks away. I’m the one who gets over it. Sure, I write and write, collect music and mope for a couple of weeks, but not this. I’m the one who gets pissed, not the one who melts.
And now? I’m terrible. I’m sad and sorry and spent. And saying it out loud only makes me sound more weak and foolish.

I’m exhausted from it. But it’s a quarry I can’t help but chase. Like a dog who sees a rabbit and follows ’til they’re miles from home.

I keep telling myself that I’ve felt this before. I make it a falsity. I make it a deception. And perhaps it is. Perhaps another week will pass and it’ll be done and over. Perhaps it’s just me annoyed that I’m alone and everyone else isn’t. That he isn’t, and that he’s punishing me or looking down on me. Could that be it? Can I make it be that? Please?

But I can’t sleep, for I dream. I can’t listen to music. I talk to myself all day, playing out scenarios. I can’t concentrate! It’s driving me crazy. To get away from other things, you can simply do something else. But this? I’m stuck in my head with myself. And frankly, I could have better company right now.

I wish it were as easy as having a conversation with my brain:

“Hello there, Brain.”

“Hello there.”

“Nice weather.”


“So, I’d like you to please abdicate me from all responsibility of thoughts about a certain someone…promptly.”

“Of course.”

“Good. Carry on.”


And then we’d all live normal lives! Boom.

But no. We have to be complicated so that even our own intentions and expectations are a mystery at times. Yay, humanity.

For now I guess I’m stuck. Stuck pushing forward and up, and silently waiting for it to leave already. Moving forward and being a good mom, chasing my endeavors, and always keeping lookout for the horizon.

That’s just the best I can do.