I am a rib
pulled out from your cage.
I am the apple
pressed against your lips.
I am the warmth
within your breath.
The sweet nectar
on your fingertips.
Your heart was made
but your soul was mystic.
The otherworldly flow
of spirit
within boundless space.
A warrior of flesh and blood
inside a
mirror-image
of my face.
"bone of my bones
and flesh of my flesh;"
What is this you have done?
You,
my demise but still
I become the mother
of all the living.
For the dust I am,
I will return.

Adam, your eyes are darker today
sky before thunder
your smile hidden in clouds of thought
is it my lips? /or perhaps my thighs?/ or my *******
is it the way I play with the other animals
when you lie on the blades
of grass suffering
between a rock and my curious nature

[blink, blink]

Adam, dreams and dreamers
can only meet under the same tree
every day, this is the only thing we own
the only thing we know.
Adam?....Adam!!

[pout]

'DON'T TOUCH THE DISPLAY' my foot!

[crunch]

It’s an
odd comfort
that it is
always raining somewhere
Old watering cans
collecting water
Tawny pines
lofty, sighing in the mist.

When my bones
are laid out
like a picket fence
in a wooden coat
they will drink
with the roots
and stone
and earth.

And when I am but
dust or atoms it will still rain
maybe I will be bricks
in a building
or some tarmac slab
something functional
or a peony flower
or even forget-me-nots
it will still rain
and I will be gone.

Crude
We pushed
each other
against saintly walls
lips sinking under
leaving bite marks
like cherry blossoms
on magnolia skin.

Hands through hair
Heavy air
Heavier breathing
Ribcage to ribcage
grazing flesh
on limestone
obscured by altars
behind cloister doors
Our bodies are cathedrals
built of blood.

We fall further
into one another
On hallowed stone.
hate the sin…?
Love the sin
Love the sinner
Be the sinner
Be the sin.

We planted tulips in each other,
in the night.
While the rain played in street light
We intertwined,
As old roots or Ivy.

We left marks in each other;
Like pressed limestone,
Like Rock built into churches,
Like wave weathered slate.

I move the hair from your
Noctilucent eyes.
And we arch together
Like ash or poplar.
Your lips are warm;
A sirocco in the chine of winter.

Love,
It is this.
No greater no lesser
And though the deeps of oceans
May stand between;
The between of us is neither wide, nor far
I carry you with me
For my home is built of
What we are.

I close my eyes
And you’re still there
you washed your hair
whilst the pots
and the pans
you left in your shower
clamoured for water
in calming tones.

padding feet
careful tread
A dancer? Maybe…
And I watched from
the ribbon of hall light

as you

wrung out your inhibitions
cleansed a small torment or two
Somewhere I hear a piano
your eyes found mine
and for a second I loved you
for a second there was but that second
and nothing, nothing more.

The hourglass sits on my desk.
I glare into the fragile globe.  My 4-year-old self builds a giant sandcastle as the bright sun glimmers on the hot sand below my feet.  I blink.  I pause and see how much sand has fell.  As the sand falls it piles onto itself one grain at a time.  What is it building now? Is the sand building or letting go?

Adam was sitting on a rock outside the Garden of Eden , rubbing his sore rib cage .

"What the Hell just happened ?"

Eve came over and sat down beside him
putting an arm around his shoulder and laying her head on him said ,

"Peanut butter and jelly or takeout ."

A man once told me earnestly, I was dirt.

And my mind got all unbalanced with distraught.

What’s the worth of dirt?

It was not until lab nine that the comment touched my heart.



“Composting and Soil” hit an emotional spot.

I am dirt. I am the feminine form of Adam, Adamah.

Biblical Hebrew for “Ground” and “earth.”

The chosen medium of the Father’s formation.



Water, Sun and Air

Father, Son and Holy Spirit

Entering me daily to heal me, grow me, thrive

the seeds He is planting to reveal His vine.



In a very figurative and literal sense.

Daughter, wife and mother ground

Purposed for *******.

Saturated in Christ, piercing love and bearing children.



Teach the fruit only the Lord develops

Through Christ, soil once unworthy, is valuable

Such as man’s duty is to cultivate the earth

I am dirt, Cultivate me.