01/06/14
I am heavy dusted with soot. Desperate - searching each wrinkle of my fingers, fold of my flesh. Give me a God-send. Help me breathe as wide as the expanding universe. We call home.
I beg home. Please, comfort me. Kiss me clean of my delusion. I am some wild strain of seed, thirsty of drought.
Maybe I am moss, snaking between the seams of brick & concrete. See me?
01/13/14
I guess I had forgotten how things decay. I had watched a whole round of seasons, as the ember of the sky tightened its grip, only to slumber again - giving us maybe a wink in the morning.
Maybe I had forgotten the irises & some trees don’t bloom forever because in my dreams you were never barren of the ripest fruit. I canned & bottled every drop of your nectar. Daily, I would wear its scent in my hair, along the nape of my neck, curtailing along my tongue.
My shelves stacked with more sweetness than I alone could ever drink. I never invited the neighbors to taste. Never asked friends if they’d like a sip. As if the elixir could only ever be loved by me.
I guess I had forgotten the common knowledge that when you bottle something beautiful it can go rancid because fruit should never belong to any one person in the first place.
02/16/14
In the mirror this morning I saw my mother’s face. One heavy crease between the brow from bearing the weight - deflecting the monsoons of waking life - protecting the crops that give bounty - In my mind I am subject to entrapment. One wounded target, pooling blood. Waiting for the confession to begin & the sick shit that doesn’t register in mirrors, to end. Maybe that morning I down my coffee, breathe deep & plant my feet, will be the morning someone notices the bloodline running down my leg.
04/03/14
How do we reformat in the wake of daily assault? Question the preconceived notions of ancestors & fine-tune our compass - We have lost touch with the things that ache to be held. Need to feel our warmth - We deny one another for fear of pain & perceived worldly gain.
Tell me you do not know, tell me you no longer understand that ancient ache - for solidarity, for solidity, for truth in our humanity.
04/07/14
At ocean edge my point it mute - Salt sucking on my fingers, I am plastered to it’s infinite inhale.
At river bend I curl around myself - nesting wild before the sun sinks under the horizon.
Beneath the currents I am tumbled - reminded that I am only small.
Bathing in this stream, I cry - songs found only by those who swim.
04/23/14
Our mother is aging - Land we call home, her sun spots, wrinkles , named mountains, respectively. Aged, yet we tear away her flesh, extract her blood in barrels, as if she’s anything but priceless.
unknown date 2014
Somewhere along the lines, between them, beneath them, we forgot how to illustrate each other - with care. Illumination of flesh. We only pretend to be alone - in truth we are passing matter, back & forth.
04/06/15
pray tell where we lost each other - ourselves.
deep dives - we are forgetting the light, small as it may be, shifting through water’s surface, it will reach our eyes, practiced in protective staring.
I miss you, sometimes.