For a moment
She is
And notices
The fun
That comes
With pretending
She is
Distinct
And truly
So,
So long
As she recalls
The pretense
And recognizes
Who writes
The role.
And in that moment,
She is love.

Finding
My shoulders
Set
In clay,
I invite
My arms
Open.
Open,
They invite
My heart
To shine.
Shining,
It invites
My sides
To lengthen.
Long,
They invite
My knees
To bend.
Bending,
They invite
My body
To fold.
And I bow
To greet
The now
Just
As it slips
Away.

I awake
To a dream
Much like
That of sleep
And find
My way
To my
Self
On my mat.
I settle
Into the nest
I’ve created
And feel
My parts
Separate
Together.
I don’t
Dream
In the
In between.

I lay
Still
And spread
In darkness,
Noticing
The print
Of my practice
In all
The in-between
Places,
And breathe
And startle
As she tumbles
Her skull
Into my hand
Looking for love
In shavasana.

I gather
Body
And mind
To my
Mat
Arranging
Them
Just so.
And my mind
Scampers away
And my body
Begins to cry
And I
Stop
And laugh
Out
Loud
Before gathering
Them back
And trying
The next
(Right?)
Thing.

I flow
And watch
My mind
Scamper
About,
Except when
I don’t,
When I wobble
And torque
With each
Glimpse
Of a time
That’s not now.
And then,
I ask,
What twin
Of mine
Suffers,
So?
Setting aside
My mind,
My body,
So my heart
Can open
(And my face
Can smile)
And remember
“We.”

I breathe,
Letting recognition
Settle in
And through
The experience
Of filling
My body
With air
Over
And over
And over.
Then I notice
Breathing
And recognizing
Breathing
And noticing
Recognition,
And the air
On my face
Is cool,
And my partner’s
Sleep sounds
Are steady,
And the mint
In my mouth
Is almost cold
As I breathe
And notice
And breathe.