As I lie waiting

Remember when the drinks stopped pouring and I came undone?
walking home completely sober limbs pulled apart
concrete under finger nails I dug in desparation
past any point of return
dug a grave shallow so all would see my rot

What prayers were said?
who stood vigil as I returned to earth?
did you sprinkle sand and seeds over my greening grave?

Did you kiss the memory of loving me in the dark?
the softness of my skin seared into your fingertips.
How many tears were shed?
did you count and collect them all?
A quantification of a life lost…
a callous number to round out so much incomplete dreaming…

footsteps never taken
passports never stamped
but so many stolen kisses
So many words bleeding heavy over poorly bound books
purchased in the absence of real direction

grants unfinished
unfollowed up on
without any hope of panning out
effort to what end?

now I am the bones ground away by time
the marrow that feeds worms
the earth
now I wait for the sun

Returning home

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.
earth arrival.

Affirming the exquisite sensitivity

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 tears.
Your tender beating heart aching for so much felt.
Real.
Valid.
Your truth.
You are not irrational.
You are a celebration of feeling.
You are so so much.
Thank you.

On Being Water

I am an ocean.
I am rivers, estuaries, and seas.
I am moving living water.

I flow, dive, soar up towards the sky and exist with a kind of freedom beyond words that demands so much if you watch.

Rain I am rain.
I am relentless, pounding, and shimmering.

Water that cycles and lives.
Moves and loves.

That is me.

Sweaty Yoga Spaces

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.

Me.

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.

Slick.

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.