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Jill Davidson Jun 2013
The passing of days collects my thoughts.
Brings about stillness
Slumber
Satisfaction.
Still I think of you.

Meandering through the life I have,
The life I live,
Purposeful at times
Sinfully silly at others,
Spins me around and
Still I think of you.

Wondering, wandering, whole and alone
Many moments mirrored in myself
And still I think of you.

January 2012
Jill Davidson Mar 2012
The written word.
What does it mean?
Does the truth really lie here?
Soul bearing…how do you know?
Does this show us what is really in our soul?
Could this be the ground truth? The bottom line?
Could this be me and you in the kaleidoscope of life?
The “oh my god why didn’t I see it before?” revelation.
To go without writing would be like going without breathing.
For in writing there is oxygen in the form of nouns and adjectives.
There is a needed purposefulness that can only be replaced with….
Well nothing can replace this. My companion, my friend, my air, my writing.
Jill Davidson Mar 2012
Once upon a time there was a little girl.
She was tall and smart.
She was happy and taken care of.
She lived on a street with lots of friends
She was filled with fun and skating and hide and seek.
She could have been your friend but she became your lover.
She was just a kid.
Fifteen or sixteen just like you.
And she came to you for this love, this lovely lust.
The hugs and kisses, the entwining of bodies.
She came to you of her own free will.
Day after day
Encounter after encounter.
There were no thoughts.
No guilt.

She was with you and then she moved from you.
She began a life that did not include you.
This young girl became a woman and had children.
You were in her thoughts now and then when she least expected it.
Or when she  needed a diversion from life.
Or when she longed for the passion that was.

Now this woman has found you again.
She has found you, and the passion, and the little girl she once was.
She now feels reborn and whole and clean and renewed.
You are back in her life and she can smile now.
She  is rejoicing and celebrating each day she has with you.
Because now she and you are older and this love, this passion
Is a gift.
A cosmic prayer that has been answered.
Treasured moments in our all too fleeting lives.
Precious moments of bliss.
She and you are bound together with a history.
With a passion.
With this new love.
She is spinning with joy.
She is looking forward with hope.
This woman is with you now.
This woman loves you only.
Jill Davidson Mar 2012
If you want me to feel sorry for you, I don’t.
If you want me to understand, I don’t.
If you want me to be happy with the way things are, I’m not.
If you think that it is easy to do this, it’s not.
If you are telling me the truth about it all, I believe you.
If you think this can go on forever it can
and it cant.
If you think that I will ever stop loving you, I wont.
If you think you are my last, my only, my evermore
*You are.
Jill Davidson Mar 2012
Have you ever had bronchitis?
Tuberculosis?
Have you ever shot pigeons?
Been to prison?
Played with yourself?
Have you ever been to Egypt?
Told stories of your backyard?
Been to two places at once?
Are you religious?
Have you had dental surgery?
Does your knee hurt?
Are you scared stiff?
Do you envision everything working out?
Are there toys in your closet you haven’t played with?
Are you sexually satisfied?
Do you cry at the drop of a hat?
A sad song?
A beautiful sunset?
Does the mere act of hugging make you long for more?
When will you be happy?
Are you already happy?
Does your medical record tell your whole story?
Do the stories you tell reflect the whole you?
Are you free to visit your true self on a daily basis?
When will it be too much?
Where do we go from here?
Are there aspects of your life you would rather not talk about?
Or are you willing to tell all?
Who is your best friend?
What can we have for dinner?
How hungry are you?
For ***?
For companionship?
For peace of mind?
Will there be ample time to figure it out?
When?
Why are you so impatient?
Is it your age?
Your name here_____ (not required)
Jill Davidson Feb 2012
Being adopted I was loved
I was loved by my birth mother
She could not see a way to fit me in her life.

Being with a married man
I am loved by him.
I am loved.
And he cannot see a way to fit me in his life.

I am in limbo
I do not belong in my home of 25 years.
I do not belong in my beloveds world
I do not belong in the world of my 20something daughter.

I need to find my home again.
I need to belong somewhere.
I am the wrong person to give up on, to give away
I am so wonderful to have around.
I am funny and delightful but still
I am a little messy, a little teary, a little silly.

I have no choice but to take on this task.
Its this task or die or drink heavily,
A quest for my home.
A quest for this love of mine
For it will heal me
Forever.
Jill Davidson Dec 2011
With you or alone
Sooooo happy
Picture me.
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