monsoon tremors flitter through bones
bee shadows guide me home
the sun it shines through chipped bared teeth
my ribs spread and desert bleached
my heart beats, in her queen hand
savage dance, in a loving land

Im speaking in the tongues of fish
no one cares, they cant hear it
shes a mermaid in a coral bed
singing the words inside my head
its alright, alright, tonight tonight
its alright, alright, we are all right, alright

in the ocean we will play
in my heart it's all okay
silent nights and silent days
excuse this howl, wolves came to play
some moments stay and some moments wane
here is a struggle, there goes the pain

the love of sun from moon, they cannot feign

to silent nights and vibrant days
the heartbeat stays, the heartbeat stays

Dear God, Spirit, Mother Nature or Void,

you are sleeping and I am sitting by the fireplace, thinking of the ways in which Love is.
They say that in order to love, you must love yourself. That in order to be in love, you must love another before yourself.
I find that in times of struggle, where the two parts of us that are different are meeting for the first, or the fifteenth time, its easier for me as I get older, to put on a smile and shake her hand, or reach out and embrace her, than it is to make a snide face and square off.
I seem to care more about saying “I am sorry”, than I do about being right. I know it may not always seem it, and it surely isn’t always that way, though it has been more often now than it ever has been before.

‘Perfect’ is the most ridiculous word in our language. What does it even mean? Its so based in opinion and for us to apply it to each other, or to have ideals centered around perfection, I can't see how that's a reasonable  if everything is ever changing. Our wants, desires, feelings and selves, always evolving, leading perfection to forever elude us. Unless we start to believe that perfection is not what is, but accepting what is. No one is perfect, but you can perfectly accept them.

I don’t understand love, or how to love in the ways that I wish I did. When I sit with myself in a quiet field or park and I look up and theres a tree over me and stars twinkling through the gnarled branches, I feel at peace. I feel alone and not alone. When I have space to quiet my mind and the beast inside me I feel love like I dont often feel, one that is unbiased and non-judging. I can focus on the fact that I am alive and that the universe is vast and we know so little about so much, that to just have life is pleasure enough. To have with it the other things, overflows the cup. Its easy in those moments to forget about bills and responsibilities, strife with my partner or friends, hobbies and tasks I need to work on, things I need to get better at, feelings I need to change and adapt and move past.. Its easy to just exist and be happy to be existing.

I wish I could carry that feeling with me everywhere. Its just that in moments of blissful magic, I know that it will be over. I have lain with others and felt satiated in their love, I have had gracious friends and wonderful companions and all those things have come and gone like seasons changing. I wish, however futile it is, that I could just hold onto that feeling. When she is lying with her head on my chest and we are looking at the stars and I feel her breath and her heartbeat and she says “I love you” and we have forgotten about the rest of the world and are only existing in the love we have for each other, it is bliss. And it is transient. And I ache for that feeling even while living within that feeling, for I am missing it before it has even gone.

Appreciating things in the moment is difficult. It gets harder the more often you lose friends and loved ones, to allow yourself to love as deeply, when you know how deep the pain is in the loss. It seems the closer you get to the light, the darker the world is around you. The more you love, the more open that you are, the colder things will become when that dissipates.

What a ******* conundrum.

There are no words anymore
Everything pours through me in a torrent
God has ****** his face inside my chest and I am stagnant
Atrophy my legs and carry me home
The silence in those goodbyes destroys me

I had a fever
and in a dream I felt what I thought
was finally serene
a man cast a thunderbolt
down from a thundercloud
a ***** spoke in riddles
to try and get the pain out
I saw a god pushing a rock up a hill
a woman on the other side
pushing backwards still
a mermaid with a broke tail
sat on a pile of coins and started to wail
the ghosts of a thousand warriors
danced in a misty field while the sun rose
I was pulled along by the moon
and was asked to help her home
the flowers spoke with heads bent low
please dont take us, we die when we go
I said I could relate
they said no, no no no

all she wanted was one last look
the wind stole the petals sold them to the brook
floated them down traded with the bay
he found and gathered them later that day
used them in the sand to spell out her name

It’s sadness. Perpetual sadness covered by layer upon layer of human experience. I hold her hand and I feel awakened, released back into the place where I don’t have to pretend any longer. I hold her hand and I feel the grief separate like a serpents skin caught on the desert rock. The heat is incredible and the lightness permeates the tragedy that has played out on the stage of our emotions. Some seem to rise into the clouds, their feet never dragging, their ship never rocking, a chosen delusion and detachment from the hum deep within. I know one day they will fall further down, down to where our spirits all lay. A kite on a windless day. She releases my hand and there I am, where I always was. This road leads to the purple mountain covered in snow and that is where I must go to meet with myself. It’s always only myself, the creatures that follow me from the edge of the forest with hands slender and soft, always fall back to where they came eventually. Leaving my shadow long and lonesome. So I walk, as I have always walked. To see how far I get before my eyes start to dance around the landscape, searching for a charming beast to call my own for what feels like only a heartbeats worth of time. To slow my stride to a saunter, as we trade memories between the decay of day into night and the howling birth of night into day, pretending it will all last forever.