How much
I would wish
to be the shape
of your tear...

sitting here but not
my insides
       in a twist
my organs blooming,
their flower landscapes
rising in my solar plexus
like poetry expanding
its cellular shapes
into
        light frequencies
I need way more.
I need the pulling off
      and stripping down
of souls
I need to meet in
a depth of falling
I need to be pushed off
the silent gates of madness
into endless sea
no looking back
senses piqued
from slightest brush
of oral butter pouring
on hot cream
my mouth, a searing
crimson wound
oscillates in
contraction radar pulses
ripe for intense
tongue exploration
         aching to be filled up with
your distinct flavor
My essence molecular is
overflowing with fluid
giving me life
in throbbing, raw
electric vibes
whipped organic, in
                 rolling tides
Somewhere, out there
                  our volcanic impulses
                          meet in steamy ebbs
                     and send energyflow
to a new and ancient universe,
magnetic
and I am
a raging heaven's child
      wrapped in
           a tight little
              tourniquet
     blood pumping
through these veins
             my longing for
                 dark stretches
   of intimate caresses
to soothe
  the spikes
      of snaking pain
Give me
those airwaves that
let me breathe freedom
into the fields of our skin
Let me run like wild herds
of the animal within

and as I find myself
hanging off
my
      own
  edges
my many-braided loops
         in zigzag split,
a-fray
my skin rips open,
parting fibers
that expose my
very
      DNA
helix swivel
     undulation
hips grinding into
                     soul
reaching in to
pull out
fresh rebirth
from between my folds
O help me to allay
this tender affliction
undo me, already
so I lose control
one little shove
and I am over the cliff
deep into ocean
**** over spliff
I am beyond ready
so grind it to the hilt
Give me your
tender-ripped heart,
spill your honeycomb milk

I am here, ravenous
in the pan
uncooked yet ripe
saliva and breath
steaming my own innards
flushing out strife
I am piquant hot pepper
ready to be broiled
my blood is already
                             boiling
my tender meat oiled
mull me over
in your oral cavity
like sacred wine
until I drip
through your bones
and down your spine
Just meld with me
                        and flow
into that light tunnel
of dark time and space
so I can stake out
my rhythms
and claim
      my
new
sacred
      place

The light had gone from this woman
Her days now became lonely and dark
She would go to the shoreline
To repair what had been torn apart
She would shout out to the shoreline
O please bring me a new light, a new moon
I am tired of feeling lonely and dark
Will you please bring it to me soon
Just like that the gilded clouds did part
to reveal to her a new moon
Time for this woman to have light again
Time for her to be swooned
This new moon was most welcoming
with his arms open wide
Lit up this beautiful woman again
and brought out the pearl we knew was inside

Night is just night,
without it being told that
it should be dark
and sunless.

It is what it is,
by its own definition.
It does not need stars to shine
In order to make darkness meaningful.

Still, the stars shine.
They do what they do
Without self-acknowledgement,
They simply do.

Be.
Like night and stars
And meaningfulness
And Self-acknowledgement.

What is it with this millennial
generation and the ones that follow,
Kids of seven, to thirty seven
that can not seem to formulate
a simple spoken sentence without
starting it with "Like" and ending
it with another quizzical "Like"?
Is it a verb or merely punctuation?
Or just an annoying affectation?

Like what the hell?
Like I just do not like get it!

"Thirty plus years in a
loving happy marriage,
My husband taken
by long illness
and sad ending.

Five years companionless
loneliness endured,
Now a naked man
is in my shower,
I can hear him softly
singing."

Love and companionship
can come at any age.
Rendering you both
whole and renewed again.