there is a place,a sanctuary,somewhere inside,where I can restwithout clothes,without mascara,without painted lipssinging staccato songs,and waxed skin glowingin its unnatural perfection,where I am therefor my eyes only,without mindless wanderings,without seductive snares,without violating what I love most,without settling for anything lessthan who I am and want to be,where I can speak with my own voice,not waiting to be received or extolled,where I can stand in front of my heart's desireand not twitch a muscle or breath,where I can hold and burn in the fireof my own wildness and maverick selfunleashed without walls and checks,where I can claim my gifts, my humanness,and a lifetime of storieswaiting to be heard and releasedinto the orgasmic mysteryof all that is and isn't me,for my eyes only.come with me.......as I take you there....

on days like this,
I just want to disappear
from this skin,
to become the breath -
without form,
without colour,
without texture,
without fragrance,
without sound

I want to melt
into the void -
that faraway place
always close,
closing in,
strangling me
with its sinews,
ruthless,
fierce,
yet utterly kind,
like the vessel
that holds everything
and nothing
against its walls,

on days like this,
I must remember
how I came to be here
like this one breath -
forgotten,
misunderstood,
and exquisitely alone.