I search,
in every reflection of myself.
Try and define,
in every hidden compartment of my essence,
what beauty lies without and within my very person.
When I close my eyes just to listen,
I faintly hear rhythm in my heartbeat, melody in my laughter,
a sing song way that I speak my words. If I read my soul correctly,
words of pure intentions,
may over throw my ruthful disguises.
If I'm squinting,
I can see the gorgeous face people claim I have,
big brown eyes full of wonder,
delicate lips so softly kissable.
I've been thinking of this a great deal, letting it consume me in the night, causing sleepless exasperations.   Looking deep within myself the truth has finally been revealed.
I was born from the stars,
I am stardust,
nothing more beautiful then the beauty of existence.

Transitioning from then to now, she contemplates her place. But time that passes proves evident, by the wrinkles on her face.

She looks down at her worn hands, as they reflect her tears. Free Yourself branded on her wrists, so it may absorb her fears.

Place it in a basket, flowers bloom of lust. Building walls impenetrable, bricks made of magic dust.

Fairytales they faded out, so many years ago. Buried in the person she sees, yet her reflection doesn't show.

I let you use my body last night
i think i liked it more than you did
the look in your lion eyes made me tremble as
you crawled over the leather skin of my couch
and dragged your hungry lips over mine
i let the embers on your fingertips brand chains around my wrists
a wild laugh escaped from your teeth
as you pressed yourself up against me
to let me feel the excitement
and show me what was coming
your breath pricked my skin
as your hands ripped away everything stopping them from warm flesh
i was naked
exposed
stripped
raw
for you to see
and touch
and control
you led me like a child into the bedroom
I was your doll, as you bent me over the side of the bed
sweat licked my spine
and i felt your eyes tasting every curve of my body
anticipation ran its fingernails over the velvet  of my back
You stood silently behind me,
your fingers played with the space just above my anxious skin
making me wait
I bite into the skin of surrender
and let the juices bleed
down my open lips
to the blooming lilies of my neck

What I would give
To wake up next to you
Bodies tangled vines
Legs wrapping around backbone
Skin stained from the previous night's hunger
From eager lips
What I would give
To have you run fingers down my xylophone ribs
Every morning
Play me into routine
Sing each note that leaves my lips
Each breathless hello
Each half whispered stay
Each please don't go
What I would give
To know the exact shape of your palms
Have them folded into memory
Making home in the dimples of my back
In the curve of my spine
Not allowing for goodbye
Reading only welcome
What I would give
To run hands through your hair
Through the saltwater aftermath
Through sand dusted in from the wind
From a day spent in beach sun
What I would give
To bury myself in the vacant parts of you
And never leave
What I would give
To fall asleep next to your mumbling
Next to your 3am curiosity
With your breath against my ear
And toes weaved together like the silk from our bedsheets
What I would give
Is not enough to shrink the space between us
Is not enough to turn distance into nonexistence
But boy,
What I would give
To have you next to me

I would give everything from the arch of my soles
To my abundance of freckles
To be with you

In order to be with you
I would give
All of me.

Dust me off
As if
I had never been tucked away.
As if
Time never lapsed into a greater space. Dust me off
and see me only as I am now.
  As if
I never have been beyond
or before
this moment.
Dust off
what you Placed on a shelf to protect                      As if
its worth watching fade.
As if
This corner holds enough light
Just for me.
Dust me off
And see me through the looking glass As if
I'm much to delicate to touch.

Inhale.  Interlock
legs toes eyes tongues
curl
arms hair lips necks.
Beat beat.
Beat beat, beat beat.
Quickening, stiffening,
plunging, confessing
; gasp ;
am nothing
but a milky white shape
as I lay myself down
in the dark.
Exhale.

First toes, then knees absorbing,
Lap, lapping.
Arms in motion,
hands still gripping as I stoop and
my board finds her ocean cradle.
Hands on deck.
Wade out, shuffle smooth as
my cool clear sanity rises up from
the earth and caresses my chest, wet.
Toes and arms again
but this time shoulders too
and I am up, out, on
laying on.
Pressed panini --
      cool cheese wedge melting into steaming cut.
But peel kneel bend branch
and in a moment I am
so UP
reaching up, balancing up, up, up,
then scoop, paddle plunging
gurgling slurp of drink rattles chest.
Water for this thirst.
Cold compress for the earth.

Your thumb a deep oval
at the base of my neck, still smoothing
fingers snake and entrap coils of my hair.
My love my person my someone
he presses so gently as we burn
but to freeze for a moment,
eyes two parallel solar lamps.
Then groan, holding onto his head
as we, in slow motion, escape.

Some mornings, heartbreak is in your bones, settled deep inside though you can’t seem to recall sending the invitation.
Your rib cage stands like the bare tree of fall, the wind whistling through it’s frail branches, tapping on your window as if to remind you, you are alone.

Some mornings, heartbreak is in your skull, in the crevices of the pale blue casing that surrounds your every thought, the broken dreamcatcher trying to keep the evil away.
But ghosts can float between the bars, slip inside your deepest secrets, with no regret or remorse for making you cry out in the night.

Some mornings, heartbreak is in your spine, intertwining like ivy on a lamp post, leaving you begging for someone else to hold your own head up for you.
Comfort resides in the hours spent cut off from reality, for at least you have control of that, though the dreams leave you franticly reaching in the night for something unknown to even you.

Some mornings, heartbreak finds it’s way back to your heart, slides through the valves, into the ventricles, mixing with the blood that gives you life. Heartbreak gives you life. Heartbreak reaches every last corner of your body, crippling you and taunting you, but you are still capable of breathing on your own. Heartbreak may be a thief, but you are a statue, broken and crumbling around the edges but still standing after all these years.

Some mornings, heart break is in your body. It seems to make up the essence of you, but it is not your being. You are your being.

Before I met you, I was a hurricane of a girl.

I was full of burning hot lava and made up of not just star dust but meteor showers.

I was the moon and the sun and every type of sky in between, the purple and blue of a whirlwind storm and the orange-pink hues of a tired day.

I could create waves as high as the boats that sailed my waters, then calm them just before they sank.

I could put every ******* natural disaster to shame with the power I held inside of my gut and my heart and my soul.

Now, I am the aftermath. I am the battered towns and the sunken dirt.

I am the cloudy night that conceals the evening lights and the defeated sea that seems to submerge into itself under the weight of the sinking sky.

I am composed of the residue of every catastrophe you have thrown my way, but underneath the rubble is the same girl from before, alive and whole and full of every great storm and tsunami tide the world has ever seen.

Start digging.