I am left in the forrest to die, a battered runaway slave, until a swamp mambo saves my life with some herbs and love over time, but I cannot let go of the fact she brought me back from the precipice of death, so for the rest of her breath I serve and protect her with honor and respect.  

I am an ancient Chinese nobleman betrothed to a bride for more money and land, except I'd rather spend the time with a common woman because she makes me feel and opens me up, but in the end I choose the power, and to my horror the bride has the woman's family removed from life.

I am a suave satyr, a boisterous and joyous half-goat who prefers the light of night, a rapscallion nymph chaser whose frenzied bacchanalia rife with wild ****** an ecstatic ******* even though a had a penchant for this shapeshifter whose eyes lifted me beyond an echo in time.

As an oracle, I am only beholden to the gods though I don't think the Kings and Queens understand my sister and me. Our feminine bodies flicker and dance in shadows, embers aglow as we flow between each other's souls and worlds to bring words of wisdom through smoke visions and hieroglyphic poems.  

I am a Viking, tired and hurt, our ship burns as my ****** body is momentarily buoyed in the frigid watery deep, proud yet ready to sleep until I realize this is my final battle yet won't reach Valhalla as I drown, the freezing drink slowly chokes my veins, the sound fades.

I feel free, a wild dakini gypsy between dimensions and time, with my sisterly crew of hypnotizing pirates making no bones what we want from the clients as our razor sharp bodies and piercing eyes cut through souls so we may outshine each other in stories and diamonds.

I am a 27 year old misfit artist diving deeper into a profound, glistening amethyst molten ocean of love with a soul older than mine yet struggling to allow love in my heart for lazy, apathetic family afraid to rock the boat  yet wallows and wades in frigid desert dunes of dried ice where water no longer exists.

I am thirteen years old and encouraged to read a poem I wrote in front of the class by my English teacher, my heart glows as a new buzzing azure jazz saxophone sound emerges in my mind as this is the first time any educator has encouraged me.

I am two or three years old running around this humongous place called apartment while my dad is chasing me with this giant eye that captures movement and sound on tapes and I'm having trouble seeing the rest of his hairy face.

I am twenty-five and holding my best friend as that rich radiant  poetic tragicomedic light fades away from his irises for several seconds of lifetimes while the seizure scrambles and mangles and tangles his mind until he suddenly blinks yet cannot think of my name.

I am twelve and at four in the morning suddenly develop this tingling vibration in my pants after I stopped flipping channels on my grandparents cable television as it landed on this inappropriate movie about a lady with huge ******* giving this guy a blowie.

I am eight or nine and scared, some six or seven kids from third grade are hitting me, kicking me, dragging me while teachers watch for a few then turn away and I feel so powerless when they spit on me and hurl my body against the tree.

I am eighteen and ready to tackle the world after graduating high school and performing two different parts in the musical after replacing a guy and taking 'the girl' to prom after she chose me and not the other guy I had to replace only to find myself dating her and another at the same time! Oh what folly and foolish revelry is this!?

I am all of these,
embracing the choices
and voices and being
knowing every breath and heartbeat
every fluttering eye and handshake
and kiss has catapulted, imploded
and cuckoo capitulated and molten molded me
into the being I am right now!