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Breaking Silence

I broke the silence like a broken record last night.  A free diver shouting "you matter!"  Even the bitch of a fish with the big teeth and a lightbulb saw it coming.  Not morbid curiosity, but real compassion.  I plunged into blackness where bottom feeders run amok.  I am crabs.  So many all of us except for when the vibrations are overwhelming and it was never his but yours.  The tiny hairs and a sonic heartbeat.  The sharp edges becoming wings and we fly over the horizon to catch the light before it burns out.  That light is yours not his.  You feel sun not him.  And the waves cover my ears.

How Am I Not an Alcoholic?

How am I not an alcoholic?  I've asked.  Often.  Facing a mirror.  In the Shower.  At the bar.  On a couch.  When I'm stupid.  To my closest friends.  To strangers who listen.  Like my emotional affair.  After the breakup.  A New Years Eve meltdown.  During the jazz crooning years. And my hiatus from sleeping.  In the darkest room. I can't seem to shake.  With the right spirit, you can pretend to know all the secrets.  Tell the ones you weren't curious about.   Poetry tumbler out of your mouth.  The kind that doesn't rhyme or isn't metered. Spilling fantasies on a silk blouse.  Head splitting into endless combinations of letters into words into sound under a paper umbrella and modesty tears everything apart.  But I dance better when I don't drink.

water ballet

Unable to perceive the shape of 

You, I find You all around me. Your 

presence fills my eyes with 

Your love, It humbles my heart, For You 

are everywhere.

A Vanishing Life

x: I feel lost.  I don't know how to make things anymore.  

y: Lost can be good. Without lost you can't find truth. Stay lost a little while.

Seen & Heard

Seen: Dancing in August and remembering it's ok to remember last August.

Heard: ... the "letting go"... people say this, but I've realized (by being so bad at it...) that one never does. You accept and love what it was. Hearts are thriving, pulsating, permeable things. They can in-love again if you let them. Be open.

Goodbye Spring

I fell in love with a predator. Cocoon living attracts that sort of thing. Spinning pupa out of control. Sun burning bright. I suffocated in delight. I fell really hard busting my pupa head. Those owl eyes feeding on a slippery mess. You'd think I'd land on my feet or tail or that soft, squishy part in the very back where I know what death looks like. I didn't. I didn't when I was writhing in it and everything grew moldy and thick. I didn't before my smoking wings flew me into the heat of dusk. I didn't because Spring has a pattern like a narcissist and I fell in like a parasite.

i can't go back

Words Memorial

We all make our choices. 

The hard part is living with them.

A Vanishing Life

Green like an Oli(ve)

Hard Transplant

"It's supposed to be heart. If it wasn't heart, everyone would do it.The heart is what makes it great."

It was a musical thing...

A Vanishing Life

The point of this exercise is to make memory your friend and not your enemy.  From one sensitive skin to another.

A Vanishing Life

Gratitude and fear can not coexist.  Thank you, Skipper, for this gem.

What I learned in September

Watercolor has value like the iron pot. The latter is solid. Round. Always waiting and doing what you know to be true. Making things so you don't have to. Full to the brim. The patience of stillness. There is risk in the other. Worldly. She flows and engulfs until you're drunk at the ledge, like wind on the first sign of summer's end. Hues dissolving to tears, seep into the bloodstream, stains on the ribcage, never leaving the in side of you as she disappears.

Just as a flower

spotless

Only Shallow

I read somewhere that love is the moment when we are released from God's image.  We can be our true selves without guilt or service.  Free.  In the same instance I read that we are born hermaphrodites, in a duality, and once it's decided what sex will be formed, love becomes an everlasting quest in finding the missing half.  Enslaved.

This will be my last prose for a while, I think.  Unsure because I'm a lazy addict.  A creature of too many habits with my sense of abandonment strong when something like swaying is out of sync.  I went under the skin this year and discovered what is beautiful, terrifying, human.  It had been a while... to find under the skin is where we want to be.

Let's pretend...

that it's the real thing
And stay together all night long.