again your words garner tears
i am fought from within
between wretched smiles aching with the shame of words i've shared
listened to, copied, written, "shared"
and yet never truly shared
those doors are gone: i have shared
and one has listened, shining love as hot to bear as sun...
refracted in my tears the warmth
is as a solar flare of unexpected love--
distrusts flung of self for undeserving care,
i waver-wallow, sing another cracking grasp,
slurp my sniffle-ramen soup to comfort ten-year wounds
all open now, shining, wincing in the sun.
i would bare my bones, it seems,
in urgent need to stamp the world an honest love.
what have i waited for? better words to come and scare us into final sum?
a final balance done, as if a math could send us there?
where? where has the daylight gone and come?
how old this starlight sinking from
i try to laugh and fail,
giving fame another final finger-flipping off
as that one girl said once, long forgotten, "cradling
her last fledgling flying ****
and kissing it on to fated final flight"
yes. discovered now by one, i heal in single sun
i beg from those in shade or hurting from my blindest words a balm
a balm of knowing deep i seek to undiscover harm...
a balm of knowing deep the wholesome love of self that overflows to all...
Mokume told me, "love them" as i struggled with their hate,
he asked my love as to her love for me,
he asked me of my love i held for her--and which was more,
the love of self or love of her
and so i wavered in the meanings love has come to bear
while he taught stridently the meaning of Yoruba masks,
the bowl atop the symbol-studded head
the brims so overfull they shower all who look,
or dare to touch its bursting river-majesty
Oct 17, 2015
Oct 17, 2015 at 1:46 PM UTC
again your words garner tears
i am fought from within
between wretched smiles aching with the shame of words i've shared
listened to, copied, written, "shared"
and yet never truly shared
those doors are gone: i have shared
and one has listened, shining love as hot to bear as sun...
refracted in my tears the warmth
is as a solar flare of unexpected love--
distrusts flung of self for undeserving care,
i waver-wallow, sing another cracking grasp,
slurp my sniffle-ramen soup to comfort ten-year wounds
all open now, shining, wincing in the sun.
i would bare my bones, it seems,
in urgent need to stamp the world an honest love.
what have i waited for? better words to come and scare us into final sum?
a final balance done, as if a math could send us there?
where? where has the daylight gone and come?
how old this starlight sinking from
i try to laugh and fail,
giving fame another final finger-flipping off
as that one girl said once, long forgotten, "cradling
her last fledgling flying ****
and kissing it on to fated final flight"
yes. discovered now by one, i heal in single sun
i beg from those in shade or hurting from my blindest words a balm
a balm of knowing deep i seek to undiscover harm...
a balm of knowing deep the wholesome love of self that overflows to all...
Mokume told me, "love them" as i struggled with their hate,
he asked my love as to her love for me,
he asked me of my love i held for her--and which was more,
the love of self or love of her
and so i wavered in the meanings love has come to bear
while he taught stridently the meaning of Yoruba masks,
the bowl atop the symbol-studded head
the brims so overfull they shower all who look,
or dare to touch its bursting river-majesty
in collaboration with st64 and Third Eye Candy
