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monicadanae
monicadanae
27/F/Los Angeles, CA Monica Danae
to finally touch a woman was no simple thing. It was in some way, like a newborn crying out; pleading/begging for the gory familiarity of the womb; yet, curious about the doom that awaits: the heartache, the toothache: the sudden rush of blood that meets the cheeks when a moment of terror creeps up. Touching her, in the sublet- paying triple for my own space, I faced her. In the California King: sheets made of nerves and soft humming; I opened my mouth, my hair spilled about. neighbors unaware of the sudden quake of demolition. My body in a construction site, rebuilt, cemented, and collected as an entirely new property. The room carrying me Like a child, eyes opened To what I had been missing.
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Nov 24, 2020
Nov 24, 2020 at 10:25 PM UTC
CONSTRUCTION SITE
i am here with you: truly here. the room is suddenly small enough to just house us, and I am watching you slowly warm up as if kindling is in my eye. i sigh, as I try to remind myself that this is truly unfolding before me, as you start to make shapes out of a pamphlet a stranger passed to us: (you make a bow tie- and try it on) all of this is circling, and churning and energizing my senses to the point i can hardly breathe, as you take my hand into yours on the street. eyes are on US. two people, walking in a newfound way, proud of liking the way we are made: two people celebrating the spirit of BOLDNESS, courage and LIGHT. before this moment, I cried at night: hopelessly wishing to share my truth, lost in a mountain of dust and mistrust. NOW, I am laughing in a store, trying on new scents, finding a sense of authentic joy alongside of this blue haired, bright eyed, fire SIGN, a woman who is not afraid to SPEAK- Or meet me halfway. The day will fuel me for awhile, for i am what I dreamt to be: FLYING in and out and BREATHING like a dragon on a quest for the prize.
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Sep 20, 2019
Sep 20, 2019 at 11:52 AM UTC
Fire Sign
i hate to leave you, my sunny/funny girl- for my heart is split in two- as the moon washes over our home. i so often reach for the cup that is yours, wash it out, seeing the lipstick on the brim. (the brand we both swear by.) I know why I must go, but it pains me so. i will miss your laughter in the afterglow of our TV shows on the TV screen you own. I now sow the meadow of our sisterhood- fold up our blankets/the pizza boxes/the canvases of our past- and tuck it away in my pocket, to clasp in a holiday grasp. for our bond is forever, between our lips- the smiles we owe to the other- my sister, my eternal friend
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Sep 14, 2019
Sep 14, 2019 at 12:28 PM UTC
SISTER
i stand in the area of the lightning strike, noticing the smoke coming from the ground. i did not know then, that I was the lightning. powerful and hot, aiming for that spot; focused on the moment of brilliance to cradle in the patch of earth. once the idea was let free- i see it shoot out of me, ready to be acknowledged and admired- AIM- AND FIRE.
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Aug 15, 2019
Aug 15, 2019 at 2:38 PM UTC
LIGHTNING