Dirt, then Stardust

I knelt in the grassNothing would do but to surrenderTo submit, to rememberHow long have I slept this time?Dirt under my fingernails washed awaySacred space between my shoulderblades tender each morningBody anxious to moveWings ache to unfurl - brush doorways, encompass space, touch sky
I made myself small againAlways slow, always on accident"Accumulated acquiescence"Exponential self-doubt giving birth in rabbited fitsSpreading to gut, to limbs, to heart, to loinsSoon languid numbness fuses to boneMind is quick to succumb - acquiescence is rewarded so sweetly
It is not enough to wakeWe must wake and wake and wake againWe must be feralShed apathy from our spirit like droplets on wingTo remember who we are
God, aren't you tired of being so careful?Earth is not careful, neither is sky - we are children of both
I am best with dirt beneath my nails, crushed between toes, with wings built from stardustI have always been this wayWe are so much more than the world would make us
I kne…

The Bees and Yellow Blossoms (I am waking up to you)

Tree outside is laden with tiny yellow blooms
Air thick with the smell of honeysuckle or wisteria
but not quite
A sweetness I cannot identify, it is foreign to my senses
Bees hum by the hundreds
a consistent thrum outside my door

Just there
Only just there

I am waking up with you
You are close to me

Arms are unfolding for you
even if my eyes are still sleepy
Memorizing the length of your nose
and self-deprecating tilt in your lips

I yawn and I stretch
this way and that way
like the ballet of boughs
Feeling parts of my body shift and creak
having slumbered for years

I am hungry
So very, very hungry for you
There has been starvation in my bones and deprivation in my muscle
but you insist upon satiation

My cup is overflowing with honey before it is even noon

I am waking up to you, love
How have you been outside my door this entire time?

Special Effects Makeup/Theatrical Makeup Design by C. Butler

The Love of a Summer Sun

When we sat close enough to touch
I would twirl the golden watch around her wrist
Feel the smooth grooves slide beneath my sticky fingers
Ritualistic and soothing

Spin the watch three times
A binding spell to keep her near

She wore the gold band unconsciously
For every outfit
In every photo

She lamented the loss of diamonds, the family crest, before I was born
What are these things to me?
Cold and sparkling idioms from a distant past

Those were not my treasures

Spin the watch three times again

Her smile was the winter sun
I wanted nothing more than to be scorched by her warmth
Though she tried and tried
nothing could bridge the distance of seasons

I would hug her tightly to me and say- I'm not finished yet
when she pulled away

Just spin the watch three more times

On my own wrist
I wear it now though it's broken
Feeling the smoothed grooves and softened edges

In the end
when I hugged her goodbye, she pulled me close, tighter
and said-
I'm not finished yet

It was a summer sun…

Lion's Den

Eyes Lion-bright, amber soaked in whiskey
Twin cocktails of savage understanding Enough to surrender belly up
Not "nice" Too insipid a descriptor
It's kindess
A tangible place A geographic coordinate There are degrees, minutes and seconds to the fracture that softened you
A turn around the corner Behind a closed door A 3 click shift of the door handle, 2 minute walk inside a hidden room, 6 second 360 degree turn
A fissure cracks along the wall curving like a backbone Toppling a few books to the floor A table overturned, but the couch is welcoming and worn
Light bursts through the windows mindless of the hesitant, jagged glass
There is repair here An under reconstruction Yet the table is set for tea, pot still warm
The light is so very clear, goldenrod erupting
The very center of you
Only caught in glimpses

Wishes Like Snow

Gathered wishes from deserted roadside Bundled with scattering of violet wildflowers
Stuck to fingers Clung to lips Tenacious in their need
A crumpled hand A puff of air Breathed into being on dry seeded snow
Cascaded into oncoming wind, lifted away
Set free to enact themselves upon the world and return gently - a kiss of fallow winter on the brows of their redeemers
Like so many things
A breathe of life A release A return home

November 4th

November 4, 2018 Marigold Parade South Valley, Albuquerque New Mexico Southwestern United States of America Northern American Continent
Sometime between 12:30 and 1pm in the afternoon Mountain Standard Time We lay in the grass My head on your chest The rumbling of your voice settling into my bones I watched grey, low slung autumn clouds roll across the sky Our hands were intwined It was then I knew I was in love with you

I will not tell you this now It’s too soon, of course But one day  you will know the exact moment you shifted me forever