to finally touch a woman was no simple thing.
It was in some way, like
a newborn
crying out;  
pleading/begging
for
the gory
familiarity of the womb;
yet, curious about
the doom
that awaits:
the heartache,
the toothache:
the sudden rush of blood that meets
the cheeks when a moment of
terror creeps up.
Touching her, in the sublet-
paying triple for my own space,
I faced her.
In the California King:
sheets made of nerves and
soft humming;
I opened my mouth,
my hair spilled about.
neighbors unaware of the
sudden quake of demolition.
My body in a construction
site, rebuilt, cemented,
and collected as an
entirely new property.
The room carrying me
Like a child, eyes opened
To what I had been missing.

i am here with you: truly here.
the room is suddenly small enough to just house us,
and I am watching you slowly warm up
as if kindling is in my eye.
i sigh, as I try to remind myself that this
is truly unfolding before me, as you start to
make shapes out of a pamphlet a stranger
passed to us: (you make a bow tie- and try it on)
all of this is circling, and churning
and energizing my senses to the point
i can hardly breathe, as you take my hand
into yours on the street.
eyes are on US. two people, walking
in a newfound way, proud of liking
the way we are made: two people celebrating
the spirit of BOLDNESS, courage and LIGHT.
before this moment, I cried at night:
hopelessly wishing to share my truth,
lost in a mountain of dust and mistrust.
NOW, I am laughing in a store, trying on new scents,
finding a sense
of authentic joy alongside of this blue haired,
bright eyed, fire SIGN,
a woman who is not afraid to SPEAK-
Or meet me halfway.
The day will fuel me for awhile,
for i am what I dreamt to be:
FLYING in and out and BREATHING
like a dragon on a quest for the prize.

i stand in the area of the lightning strike,
noticing the smoke coming from the ground.
i did not know then, that I was the lightning.
powerful and hot, aiming for that spot;
focused on the moment of brilliance
to cradle in the patch of earth.
once the idea was let free-
i see it shoot out of me, ready to be acknowledged and admired-
AIM- AND FIRE.

i hate to leave you, my sunny/funny girl-
for
my heart is split in two- as the moon washes over our home.
i so often reach for the cup that is yours, wash it out,
seeing the lipstick on the brim.
(the brand we both swear by.)
I know why
I must go,
but it pains me so.
i will miss your laughter in the afterglow of our TV shows
on the TV screen you own.
I now sow the meadow of our sisterhood-
fold up our blankets/the pizza boxes/the canvases of our past-
and tuck it away in my pocket, to clasp in a holiday grasp.
for our bond is forever, between our lips-
the smiles we owe to the other- my sister, my eternal friend