I will not pucker up my lips and try to kiss you
I will deliver poetry over your tongue and ask you how it tastes
I will be what I am with my fragrance
eternally unrivaled as is yours, theirs and everyone’s else’s
our uniqueness solidified at birth

I did not find you broken nor off course
I found you whole
in pain perhaps but wholly please never forget that silent prayers follow you that they ooze and hide in the winds breeze never to be spoken
silence is their language

I am Jane loving Austen
Purring with her own happiness in there solidarity home

I am flower moving in the wind
feeling it’s conjures that life is indeed cyclical and you should sway to its wind

I know it was not his fault nor my fault
I know it was trauma bonding
painful inheritance of pasts resurfacing
triggering unconscious cycles

I am not angry
I am in love with my own becoming
and I can see his becoming
and think we chose well

Two different roads
my love on the other fading to nothing
alive only in the forever of yesterday

You sweat through the fury of a blazing love that gave too little and still wanted to call itself love

Today I love the moon and all the dreams in my belly that speak of sweet womanly passion, of sweet burning match sticking life’s wick
of sweet, oh so sweet fervor to be everything I am with out compare
of sweet, sweet, willingness to release myself and continue

Find my hands in the water of the graces that do align