Sometimes I pluck the leaves off dead trees and string a garland around my neck because I want to be reminded of your sweet scent.
Musky, full-mooned nights, the frosted soil in the garden where in summer we laid, the last days of autumn.
I haven't been without a lover in ten years. My mother tells me I need to slow down that I need to find myself and find God.
The only type of slowing down that works for me is when I want to make love and there is no need to find "myself" by cosmic law, that is fluctuating everyday and as the Hindus say,
I AM GOD.
I took a long hiatus from writing, breaking the silence with a poem longer than 50 words feels good. When the Muse runs through...