Rhythm

layed you on my breast
eternally pressed on my shoulder now
the days turn to longer days
the micromoments of me and you

the rocks; you rocked me
you expected me to be there, so i was
and we will never be so entwined again

your hands are bigger now
reach for more than before
imprints of us locked inside my jaw

you could cut someone with your eyes
you sliced me in half
i was looking up at the white ceiling
motionless; why did i want to do this again

rewind
splash on the floor
you dancing as you do
rhythmic and hard

you weren’t even crying
i wasn’t either
it wasn’t our romance yet

you would take and i would give
it felt endless, but there was a beginning
there was an end; there always is
now, you breathe the life into my throat

Photo Cred

Icy Beauty

i’m drifting on a swooping patch of fluff in the cabin of a hot air balloon
fumes catching to the wind in their trail, catching to me; so i jump
gliding down to earth’s rusty terrain with my parasol in hand, and my debt in the other

Icy Beauty

i’m drifting on a swooping patch of fluff in the cabin of a hot air balloon
fumes catching to the wind in their trail, catching to me; so i jump
gliding down to earth’s rusty terrain with my parasol in hand, and my debt in the other

tip toeing as not to split the thin glaze beneath the arch of my foot
every creek and corner shattering my insides, scooping their seeds onto a plate for all to see; so i carefully slough them to the end of tomorrow’s table

my toes point as i plié through marshlands
concentrating on getting every move right
squatting and covering for the night in a deep bog
need to stop, but must keep going

trudging away in a buttery jam
everything around me sticking to my legs
the mud forms a permanent home in my soul
think I’m moving forward but we are just walking in circles

stomping on nature’s icy beauty
remiss to the bear trap’s; i know where they are now
unabashedly audacious in my tall winter boots

crumbly bite of wind on my face; i forge ahead in fearless fashion
my eyes eating anyone in my path; my hands absolving the past reckage
storm warnings ahead, but i firmly stomp on

the sky ruptures in two and her tears bathe the mountains
goosebumps form all over as the tantrum embraces my skin
they tell me to hold on, but i let go as i float down her brooks
an ethereal sense absorbs me as i dive into an unruffled cove
my parasol seems to appear as if it never left; it was waiting for me here all this time

Photo Credit

Mindfulness, Death, Birth & a Poem

Time ticks away Sometimes Pattering Sometimes humming Sometimes jackhammering Gnawing away at the bones of life

I Am My Own Muse

blush blood encrusted
encapsulated like the placenta i ground up like a burger
yet i never saw my own

thick like a french soup
round like a harvest moon on a winter dusk
hard like a rivers edge; jagged and moving
pulsing like the internal clock that beats in all of us

time ticks away
sometimes Pattering
sometimes humming
sometimes jackhammering
gnawing away at the bones of life

a pool beneath her feet
waiting to be untapped
juices dipped in the cream that dripped from her womb
soft like the angel skin; heated like that moment where time stalls ever so slightly into a gigantic hum so loud it will burn your ears
so painfully poignant you can’t help but to shield your heart

questioning every bit of bits before
knowing everything that comes after
a brown crowned queen flew in the air towards me…

then, they called me mom

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