inner spaces: the last tendrils

Tuesday, March 8, 2016

the last tendrils

my joy
curls itself
around yours,
the last tendrils
unfurling,
throwing themselves
into the breath
of this mysterious light,
this unlived morn.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Do you have a question, thought or comment? Please share them with me....

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)

for my eyes only

there is a place,
a sanctuary,
somewhere inside,
where I can rest
without clothes,
without mascara,
without painted lips
singing staccato songs,
and waxed skin glowing
in its unnatural perfection,
where I am there
for my eyes only,
without mindless wanderings,
without seductive snares,
without violating what I love most,
without settling for anything less
than 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 desire
and not twitch a muscle or breath,
where I can hold and burn in the fire
of my own wildness and maverick self
unleashed without walls and checks,
where I can claim my gifts,
my humanness,
and a lifetime of stories
waiting to be heard and released
into the orgasmic mystery
of all that is and isn't me,
for my eyes only.

come with me....
...as I take you there....