Your beauty radiates like a flower in the moonlight
For to me that is the loveliest atmosphere
And you are the loveliest vista
Be my midnight flower
Let us count the years

i still try to remember
to take my boots off
at the door

my feet are wet
from walking in the rain

i leave laetoli footprints
on the pine floor
-like the first man

trying to walk upright
but can't seem to
get it straight

There's a lot of empty space
in a house
so full of quiet

wishing for thunder.

r ~ 9/5/14

I'm tired of standing in front of the bathroom mirror and picking myself apart every morning. I grab at the skin on my waist and ask myself "why?", I drag my fingers through my knotted hair in disgust and I pinch my thighs, wishing they would get smaller. I've been so set on being society's idea of perfection that I had not slowed down to notice how beautiful I really could be. The freckles running down my neck, like constellations in the northern sky, the curls in my hair laying over my shoulders and the roses blooming in my cheeks. I stood in the mirror and looked myself in the eyes and noticed my pupils darken and grow larger because I really do love myself. I used to only care about what you thought of me and the day you threw me away, I threw myself away too. But today, that's not the case. I'm picking myself back up and putting myself back together. I love who I am as a person and that's enough.

Skin cracks
White rivers
A delta on the tip of my tongue
Let the words flow
I expand
I grow
In every direction
Until impossibility pulls me back
I have long ago learned
That pushing the limits means pains
This is not my concern
All I worry about now is
Truth and growth and flow

planned schizoid prosody perchance
post-haste  a Pastoral providence
psychotic pathos that infects please,
the permanence of the promise
praise the Prometheus stealing
the flame
against the will of Zeus feeding
the fire of man:
proffer in the remaining pursuit
of posting in a poetical
perchance.Pursue!