i stand here with a hole in my chest. someone unearthed the key and dug up all the rest, their grimy hands
scratching and scraping into the dark. Unsure of what they'll find, but they wouldn't mind
leaving the tomb with a few
antiques,
maybe one or two.

i wish they bagged my soul with them.
it's rusting itself blue.

There was once a boy who climbed a tree,
searching for a long lost treasure of his.
He spied it on the horizon,
lying in a muddy ditch.

He took his guilty shovel in hand,
and booted it deep into the soil until he came upon
what he assumed was his prized relic.
The look on his face rivalled the look on hers.

There are hallways
and there are rooms.
Roads connecting to homes.
Paths leading to villages.

Vacant spaces brining me to nowhere.

Veins are lines on a map,
we are more than just bodies.
We are unfolded pieces of paper
creased in the corners with relevant urge.
With crests and valleys composed of experiences
and dreams
and adventure.

I have yet to unfold.

Doors whisper,
they invite you in.
So many locks and keys
and treasure chests full of passion
of determination
of unwavering will.

I’m locked and no key has ever fit.

Footsteps are history in the making.
Artifacts.
Proof of the reason you stayed;
the reason you left.
The carved sand along the shore
making you wonder if they are running away
or going home.

I turn to only find my shadow.

Maps full
of all these hallways and rooms
and reasons
and unopened treasure chests.
Missing keys and ghostly whispers
before every door
and I begin to wonder
whether or not I was begging please
to the slurring headlights down the midnight road
or to somebody who could save me.

I must be blessed,
Surrounded by benevolent spirits,
Guarded by angels,
Watched by my ancestors before me.
This life cannot have been the first time we’ve met.
Some never find,
What we have discovered in each other.
We are a four leaf clover,
A needle in a haystack,
A rare and precious taonga,
A treasured gift.
We are perfect,
Immaculate.
In you I find a comfort,
That sometimes wanders from myself,
You are my closest companion,
and I learn so much
From the way that you are.
We are sisters,
Blood is irrelevant.
We are weird sisters,
Queer witchy feminists,
Living by self-developed norms,
Rather than societal,
The value of which cannot be overestimated.
Together we cannot be held back.
We are perfect,
Immaculate.
I will float with you
In our next life also.

Theres a Parade Today
The Sound of the Byrd's
Calling thru Bright Sunlight
Carry the Cloak
of an Undergarment
Never to Be Worn
For Majesty
Starlit Laden
It Is Not For Man

I Prefer Naked
You See
Flesh of Awakened Being
Pure Heaven
World Beyond World
Walk Upon the Earth
Sparkle Upon Waters Edge
It Is My Lover's Breath
I Taste
With The Desire
of this  Smile

Words Spoken
Without a Single Sound
Deeply Drawn Sweet Harmony
Of Pleasure Felt
LIFE Breath
Christ Grace
Listening
Dew Drops
of a
Spring
called
FAITH