Inside the stillness of this morning
The earth is humble
You sit crooked-legged on a splintered row
I see it clearly
You hold the child of a tired woman at your side
You do not know her name
The child clasps your arm and falls asleep inside the smudgened earth upon your chest, a hard days work
This is a feeling you have never known
And you sink, too, into the child’s bony cheek
You see me now, upside down, in clearsight
Our breaths align, weeping, not in sadness
For we know it’s all connected
And you close your eyes and smell her hair
And the hair tickles your nose
And I open my eyes and see a purple sunrise
I take a deep breath
You exhale
A shiver
The gratitude, the boats, the ripples
The altruistic beauty of something so much greater than yourself

I truly love
Sleeping alone
Eye contact
Silence
I love watching people be themselves
I love walking a fine line, on my tip toes;
tenderness so soft you almost can’t feel it
I love being untouchable
and I love being touched
I love breakthroughs
and things of substance
I love walking through the woods—
getting lost, laughing, and turning around
I love the art of healing
I love fluctuation and dynamism and change
I love being free – unobliged, unbound, unassuming
I love the sober thoughtfulness of melancholy
I love love, and I love loving love
And I love giving myself time, as much as I need,
to understand my magic

Lately
I’ve been
Quiet
Patient
Listening
Preparing myself for war
In ways you wouldn’t understand
Because I feel it coming: the calm before the storm
I’ve healed myself from ruin: ash, dust, craters
And look at me now - a palace; a temple
For to lovers who pilgrimaged, and prayed
Humbly, I’ve built walls that break clouds
To protect my heart
From men who hunger for praise, and power
And flesh
Lately
I’ve been
Slipping into shadows of castles in the sky
Where only disciples who’d give their lives
Can see the door

I’m a chiliagon, a rubik’s cube -
Not to be unriddled or unwound
I’m a disproportionately curvatured polygon; too spiritual to be mathematized
I am art, not the artist, and I have transcended my pain and fear because I walked with them in darkness, in depth, to understand not to conquer them
I am a mirror of mosaics and I have reorganized my pieces so many times trying to make sense of how they see me and I’ve learned that they only see themselves
Because we are all teachers and students and
There is so much to learn
About ourselves
Through each other
So open your eyes
And walk with me
Through this great life of self-reflection
So that we may understand
And transcend
These bodies that ground us

Premonition: foresight, flashes, freedom from the past
I’ve been chasing dreams; starting fires, spreading fevers
Would’ve helped you reach your own if you only would’ve asked
Contrast; backlash; now that I am blooming you look back
But I no longer need an explanation
Justification; indignation; extrication;
I have let it all go
No strings, no contingencies, no more holding on
I hope you know I’ve had three dreams about you this week
But they don’t make me think, or wonder
I don’t know why you are missing me – right before
You ask for her hand in marriage – but
Those are your demons now – because
We no longer share anything
Other than regret
For different reasons

Twenty-five years; the choices we never expect to have to make
Rights and wrongs blurred, smudged, blended; sugar-coated; deep-fried
Anticipation is no use; left field; no clue
We grow or die
The mind is a cage, or boundless
Love and pain – are reflections – the same
And you have to know both – or you’re chained – to one or the other
Twenty-five years; the tunnels are winding and I’m looking for my shadow
But it’s just me; my mind; my body; my choices
I dropped the map – it didn’t make sense anyways – I started following my intuition
No rules; no business; no more pleasing others
I am self-seeking
My language is forgiveness – my rhythm matches water
Twenty-five years; I have a heavy but wild heart
I am whole and wide-eyed; grounded; awake; fearless and free
Liars don’t shake me; the past doesn’t chase me; I know what I need

My heart is heavy because
I know I deserve love
But no one stays
I wonder when it will be my turn
To feel like a child -
Wide-eyed; wholeheartedly, innocently Love
I am tired of being a door
Opening their hearts; teaching them to Love
So they may give it to someone else
Must I weave a net?
But I thought love was free
How do I be as fluid
When my Love is like a stone;
Solid, sinking, ever-rounded by their passage