Evening settled slowly
as balm faded to soft breezes,
cooling buzzing body gold
among trunk and towering trees.
This is where music was made to be played.
Concert halls contain the notes
while the woods hold it in the air,
Our midnight moon hips
matching rhythms of Earth herself.
And as the band played they untangled
us from our tightly held flesh
allowing us to melt into
the magic of our bones;
Their improvisation allowed for
filling our heads with daydreams
and technicolor beats.
Lucidity falling on each breath
and pulling our heat strings
into ultra life indigo skies.
Wrapped up in the moment
until we lose it
in our overgrown
I find myself troubled by the odd things I say and the questions I ask that seem to trouble others.
Each time it’s like I have dropped a heavy stone into crystalline calm waters and it causes ripples across the surface. So I dive in to try and undo what I’ve done, but this creates a larger disturbance than before. And now I, too, am drenched in deep. So then I aim to stop each wake of my worries with my own fragile hands. I pull them closer to my body to make sure they don’t reach another’s shore, yet the water slips through my fingertips and forms waves upon waves until I am waxing and waning in an oceanic storm. And there’s nothing left to do but tread until it settles and everyone moves on. I wait until the calm returns so I can swim to the muddy bank with tired arms. My bones only strong enough now to wrap myself up as I sit there alone. And then I remind myself to be careful when I pick up stones.
I just need more time.
to unwind and unravel,
to travel beyond myself
and this body –
undo false lessons
to feel the reality
of love, life, and being.
freeing my mind from shackles
I placed on my own
guided by the arms
of society’s control.
But I need more time to
An evening in August, you came quiet and full.
I’ve been walking in a garden on the edge of autumn,
blooming flowers settling in slumber
as the branches loosen their grip on green leaves.
A nourishment of change as I slip myself
between cedar roots and delicate moss.
Even the rain that settles between goosebumps,
raising fine hair on my arms, is warming
to my bones and cleansing to my soul.
Loving you is a summer zephyr
while to others love’s all storm.
Loving you is balmy breezes
as we watch oceans rise and fall.
My love is unspoken in other tongues
for my mother tongue is one
no-one can hear,
Creatures of the deep
come to rest; come to sleep,
in your dreamy tide pool eyes.
Fragments of your soul
washing up as tides rise –
settling as they fall
and our ocean clears through.
In crystalline hues
I see past the chaos and chasms
our world portrays.
With one look I undress
the messes of layers
built over my body.
Skin to salt.
Bare and raw,
yet satiated by safety.
Just one look in your tide pool eyes
and I realize the same treasure lies
with each of us – inside.
We just need to take the time
to find it.
Her body is not yours to own.
Her body is not yours to hold.
Her body was not made for grown
men to admire, fawn after or desire.
Her body was made to carry her soul.
A celestial carriage of mere vessels and cartilage
holding divine light within it, so vast
with a mind of masts that set sail
past the confines you define her as.
Forget the privilege you’ve been told you hold.
My body is not yours to own.
I am making friends with fear,
to divert it from taking control
and digging a hole
in my fragile heart.
Let the weight of it all
empty to my feet to keep
me grounded as I steep
in this and welcome
I am not fear but fear
is a part of me I observe
as I learn to overturn
each stone of my being.