Badlands, salt flats, moors, hill shelves, crags…
The earth exotic
Lava beds cooled like the moon
The earth alien
Woods and jungles that pull me in with leafy mouths that swallow light.
The earth encompassing
I want to find my place in the soil once again, so I may grow deep roots.
Cum on my stomach
squeeze my ankles and drown my thirsty mouth in kisses
Wrap me in your arms and squeeeezzzeeee
we breath in each other,
No fear of smothering because between lies universes of possibility.
Know this as I snake my legs around you and pull you close.
Bite your bottom lip and hold your hair fast.
We could never begin to understand, how even when we run away, we are racing towards one another.
Let me smell your skin and play with the sweat running down your back.
Lover come home.
Find your place in my heart.
To my dreamy rain lovers, thunder chasers, lightning jumpers.
To my watery mer folx.
To the dreamers and air dancers twisting in the wind.
As we cry rivers and fill oceans, fly in the night on sighs, and dream dream dream in gossamer
Your love is real.
Your tender beating heart aching for so much felt.
You are not irrational.
You are a celebration of feeling.
You are so so much.
As i wander through this city thinking, thinking, thinking, I realize a few things in part.
I run to this ideal of beauty that I feel my body betrays because I am so lonely and starving for intimacy.
Like all of us I want to be held, affirmed, loved by someone I feel connection to.
I realize though as I disocciate and fall out of panic…I am me.
Everything I often want to burn out of my brain are some of my greatest gifts.
I am lonely and human. I am a writer even if I struggle daily to write…
I am a bleeding heart sewn roughly to a sleeve of a shirt I want to tear off.
This bleeding heart is my humanity and my ability to love.
I pray to the ancestors.
I pray for my mother.
The blood I shall spill and the wrath of the mighty.
In the night I hear my destiny rush between drops.
Rain, she calls.
A river spills over my body from above.
May the world drown and the ocean swallow us whole.
May we tremble as our breath is pulled away.
Oceans, call to me.
Fathoms, reaching from fathoms.
Yemaya calls to me.
Mouths like mine, glistening through pen and ink on paper.
Illustrated fullness and so much inferred gloss.
Eyes furried with lashes.
A gaze soo sultry that it drips sooty kohl.
A body divided.
A beauty fashioned together.
The mathematics of artificial aesthetic.
And yet through the all the noise
Of features I do not have.
Within a geometry I cannot posses.
I see a mouth like my own.
I gave up the possibility of marriage and a house.
A fat pug, a chubby baby, safety in arms that held me and a framed degree.
Can I dive into the water instead?
Water deep and dark?
Can I relearn to love the feeling of being submerged?
I remember at 10, after diving off the diving board.
The electricity as I approached, dizzying.
Hitting the water and then …. silence.
Can I live there in the water just before resurfacing again?
I really loved that swimming silence.
Before becoming afraid.
What is good is not drowning, when I am endlessly choking on my own fear?
No shores, I will allow islands but no shores of safety.
No pool edges to cling to.
No false safe shores at least.
No, not for me.
For as soon as I take steps, my skin burns and I shrivel.
Please, can I swim again?
I think some drowning is needed.
My pussy isn’t a begging bowl.
I do no offer it open and pleading
trying to capture any affection you should choose to fill it with.
Do you imagine that later I sift through the contents while lying on the cold tiled bathroom floor?
Fingers deep in my cunt searching for something resembling love as your reckless indecision pours out white and sticky onto my thighs?
My mouth isn’t trying to hold your tongue between my teeth.
Why would I silence a voice I have pleaded to hear so many times? Do you know how much of my own blood I swallow each time I bite down on the words your actions make me fearful to say?
I do not tie your hands together with my pink rope. Neither do I shackle your feet to one place with gold bands, red silk, nor the weight of so much guilt.
I only offered water, asked for stories, and gave you the warmth of my bed to rest from your days of running.
All the while seeing the expanse of your dreams and hoping you would not cower at the sheer magnitude of my own.