I rub your face with my sweat slick hands
Hands I sat on and rocked waiting for you to arrive.
Hands that were as cold as they were filled with anticipation.
My ass was cold through thin trousers made of cheap cotton sewed by small children.
Children with big eyes and brown skin.
Children that for a difference of a few years, looked just like me
I smelled my sweat and the cold wind hitting it just so that anyone who came near me would know … “Yes, winter sweat, that is what I am smelling.”
This intermingled with the rusty bench, cold and metal.
These scents existed in a loop my mind traveled across paying attention to each part in a sequence, over and over.
All while waiting.
Fluids fell out of me as I anticipated you.
Your feet stepping on concrete.
The feeling my eyes sent my hands as always imagining caressing your coat when I saw you before burying my hands diving past each layer.
I always sought skin.
I wanted to find where I could feel your life…pulsing and tell you with my fingertips how much I loved you.
I couldn’t with my mouth because it would scare us both but my hands could whisper truths to your spine.
I know your heart would hear.
For now, sweating and waiting.
I was always the witch.
This is a word in a tongue that is not mine but will do.
I am terror when you make me the other, but if you stand with me I become possibility.
Find me in the woods, sharpening my axe, sewing my bags, and waiting.
Smell the blood. Lick the earth, and listen for my laugh.
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.
Sexy is summer sweat and realizing how the musk of wet earth first pierced reminds me of the first time I explored you from behind.
I love the smell.
I always want to be deliberate with you.
I coaxed and nudged, raining down kisses as I dug deeper still.
Wet earth, I only dig in wet earth.
Let me drown if I must, breathing only enough to continue.
Your mouth a prayer, i can never forget the first time i watched desire play over your face.
I want to tear into you still.
I watched the sky turn pink as I stretched to the east
Further and further I released towards a brick wall.
The humidity drew us all close.
Snuck under our shirts,
Soaked our chests and ran down the length of our spine
Drops of sweat like fingers making you gasp upon contact.
Eyes wide. Undeniable to even the most unobservant.
Something. is. happening.
Someone is responding.
The wood, fuck, the smell of the wood floor made everything hotter.
The smell of cedar driving the unending heat.
I parted my mouth to pant just for a moment and suck the heat in as I lay back.
Awash in my heat.
I licked the salt on my upper lip, immediately prompting me to reach out for an equally sweaty jar of water.
Moisture met moisture as I drank down deeply
I prayed to my tiny secret gods that I always remember the spaces and moments where I can make time stop and my hands can remember further than the places they are able to touch.
Pleasure in minutes, moments, even morsels.
Pleasantries in teas.
Traveling to get the tea.
The halo of a street light on the way there.
The scent of the tea brewing.
That first sacred sip.
They push me through, past a deep nothing into wonderment.
I don’t wake when I should, so I stare and glory at a lamp.
My prayers are written in careful neat writing to all that is ordinary.
My shelves are tidy.
My hats are where they “should” be.
Invisible battles won.
Seeing the good.
I seek out possibility.
I hold on to her fast.
I raise her from the dead when no light exists.
Every night requires incantation.
When my heart beats and I sweat, praying for sleep.
Sick with anxiety. Riddled with failure.
Dying for a rhythm that allows me to speak a language with those that walk illuminated by her light.
Me a mere shadow looming large
May I always find sanctuary in the simple
What did today affirm?
To love myself. Deeply.
Love myself, love myself, love myself. So I can just be so full of love and like honey overflowing I run over onto your fingers
Into your mouth,
Sweet and soft.
Feeding my community, my babies, my sisters, my family, my siblings, with all my abundance.
Brown and black. Red, dark gold and pink.
The colours of my skin, hair, blood, eyes, and womb.
So much, I am so much.
So much pleasure.
So much deeply felt emotion.
So much intelligence, ferocity, so much so much.
So much LOVE.
I am loved. I am loved. I am loved. I am loveable. I loveable. I love me. I am love.
I was once a baby seal
My mother was the ocean
her heartbeat was the sun
I was always with her
I want to swim again in her love