she's confused--

the veil wrapped
so tightly over
her eyes she
starts to choke
in the midst of
a gathering--

is it really so easy?

mostly beneath the
surface, the iceberg
is seemingly small
and yet continues
for hours, deep
beneath the realms
of possibility--

sighs and tender touches never hurt before

she's just trying
to mend the hurt
while inflicting
more with
every breath--

they exist
in perfect stillness,
surrounded by
flowing water and
comforting earth--

the tree extends
it's spider legs
serendipitously over
casual rocks and crevices
to reach the Mother's stream
of which life truly flows--

they come to heal
heavy hearts
beneath the warmth
of winter's light rays--

blessed anew,
they carry on--

the blood-stained
dried walls
are my prison,
lit with intense florescent
beams of fake sunshine
that pierce into
my eye sockets--

the others
with their bright
smiles of lips pulled
violently back over teeth
and insistent demands
are my jailors,
content that I do their bidding
so long as things go
their way--

I slide ring slide bag
over and over
and over
with empty words
until my heart
is ready to burst--

customer service
is for drones--

The Earth
is the Mother
beneath my feet--

in her eyes,
I am sturdy
with my toes
squishing dirt
beneath my soles--

the Sun is my Father
always watching,
radiating Light to
guide my way,
as he's done
since I was small--

his lady wife,
Mother Luna of the night
guiding my dreams
and watery feelings
as I swim through lakes
of passion, and climb
steep mountains of fear
before jumping
through the sky--

my guides are always
there, comforting me
in their safe embrace--

So here I sit,
millions of thought moths
rattle through my
skull, like change
at the bottom of
her purse--

the trees whisper
silently, urging
me to be still,
quiet, patient--

they give my heart
peace as winds
tickle my skin
in tender kisses,

I long for your
company, embrace even--