Infidelity (noun) \ ˌin-fə-ˈdel-ət-ē \
Betrayal of a vow. Or whispered otherwise, the first time Coyote tasted the salt of my wrist, when lightning seemed to have waited to arrive. Grandmother would call it shadow-marriage, the reminder that paper rings and courthouse oaths cannot bind the spirit. It flowers soft and fragrant, sweet as mesquite after rain.

Myth (noun) \ ˈmith \
A traditional story, especially one natural or social phenomena. Or in another tongue, to be called Inanna while pulling my hair back, as if the goddess herself had crawled from shadow to breathe on his neck. I laugh because I’m no goddess- just a woman with cracked nails and unpaid bills. Still, myth enters flesh like fever, and we burn until the walls drip with story.

Body (noun) \ ˈbä-dē \
The physical vessel. Or in broken voice, the altar on which every promise is tested. My body knows what paper cannot: the way desire bruises, the way grief leaves its thumbprint. Flesh remembers long after the mind has lied itself clean.

Eros (noun) \ ˈer-ˌäs \
Passionate love. Or named differently, a hunger that follows, like a stray through desert parking lots, its tongue bright with need. Eros offers scraps, sometimes nothing, and still I remain, hollow with wanting, certain one day I will eat from his palm. He is no child, he comes like a jackal-god- wild, luminous, not easily bound.

Pulchritude (noun) \ ˈpəl-krə-ˌtüd \
Beauty. Or carried on another breath, the ache. I see him sketching a body not mine, tracing hips that could belong to any girl at the bus stop. I know beauty is a weapon sharpened against me. Still, in his eyes I find fragments- cheekbones my father gave me, hair dark as my mother’s shame- briefly holy, before the mirror cuts again.

Unravel (verb) \ ˌən-ˈra-vəl \
To come undone. Or in another telling, the way every thread between us shivers like a web in prairie wind- fragile, trembling, already near to breaking. Spider Grandmother whispers that love weaves and unweaves in the same breath. The art lies in knowing when to let the strands snap, and when to hold fast, even as your hands begin to bleed.

the wheels of samsara go 'round and 'round
'round and 'round, 'round and 'round
the wheels of samsara go 'round and 'round
all through the tao

the doors of samsara go open and shut
open and shut, open and shut
the doors of samsara go open and shut
all through the tao

the wipers of samsara go swish, swish, swish
swish, swish, swish, swish, swish, swish
the wipers of samsara go swish, swish, swish
all through the tao

the signals of samsara go blink, blink, blink
blink, blink, blink, blink, blink, blink
the signals of samsara go blink, blink, blink
all through the tao

the horn of samsara goes beep, beep, beep
beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep
the horn of samsara goes beep, beep, beep
all through the tao

the motor of samsara goes vroom, vroom, vroom
voom, vroom, vroom, vroom, vroom, vroom
the motor of samsara goes vroom, vroom, vroom
all through the tao

the people in samsara go up and down
up and down, up and down
the people in samsara go up and down
all through the tao

the babies in samsara go, "wah, wah, wah"
"wah, wah, wah, wah, wah, wah"
the babies in samsara go, "wah, wah, wah"
all through the tao

the mommies in samsara go, "shh, shh, shh"
"shh, shh, shh, shh, shh, shh"
the mommies in samsara go, "shh, shh, shh"
all through the tao

the buddhas in samsara go, "I love you"
"I love you, I love you"
the buddhas in samsara go, "I love you"
all through the tao

the wheels of samsara go 'round and 'round
'round and 'round, 'round and 'round
the wheels of samsara go 'round and 'round
all through the tao

a privilege to share
the deciduous bond
bare-crowned: my self and the trees

leaves, hairs,
epidermal desires,
the great landscaper reclaims all of these

what do you know
about their pain
what do they know
about yours

run through each other
the sharpest love
to find out

out of the night that covers me
black as the pit from pole to pole
I thank whatever gods may be
for my unconquerable soul

in the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud
under the bludgeonings of chance
my head is ******, unbowed

beyond this place of wrath and tears
looms the horror of the shade
yet the menace of the years
finds, will find me unafraid

it matters not how strait the gate
how charged with punishments the scroll
I am the master of my fate
I am the captain of my soul