I sit
on a canopy
of cool air
straight,  aligned
my soul afloat
heart gently graced
Lotus palms,
fingers touching
as chakras form rainbows
from my base,  
all through my spine
divinity frothing free
In prismatic pulses
my heartwaves
flushed of poisons,
energy cleansed
I am open
as the universe opens
to me
my third eye
in blossom

and even here
you reside in my
tiniest of fibers
even if I wanted to
I couldn't wash you out
you look into me
parting me,  gently
reaching into my
deepest of
strata

I am fresh fruit,
pulled apart
My juice runs
like a godly river
without me even
parting my thighs
Time and time again
I am electrified
touching this earth
the ripe flow of you
folds me into
little earthquakes,  
seismic vibrations
Only felt by me,
shaken to subtle core

and even if I tried to
resist it
you melt into me
like breath
you rock me
from chaos
into still ponds

So
for now
to calm the raging
waters that flow over
and through me
I sit
I breathe
and feel
one with
the heavens
and earth
the inner magic
rushing to me

I have myself,
woman of woman
and you,
a part of
     my landscape
forever

Zoloft has killed my poems and my erections.
the unfortunate side effects of getting well.
my pen won't mark this paper,
and my ***** hangs it's head in disappointment.
they look me in the face and ask 'why?'
I try to tell them,
about the constant discomfort,
the urge to peel off my skin and escape,
how my mind fixates on misery.
they seem to understand as well as a ball point pen and a flacid ***** could.
their tiny voices squeak
'we want you to be happy'
and I think they mean it
the three of us wonder if the writing will get easier.
the three of us wonder what the point of happiness is without a working ****.
the three of us wonder if we are useless without each other.