Found me here...

Atrocious mess made to feel slightly off kilter in your kindness.
So you stopped dead in your tracks.
For years I could not feel it.
I hid in gathered nests from branches that reach across.
Kiss my mouth and pull my layers like the threads that bare my soul to vicious vision-less thieves.
Or to me.
To you, for you, through me.
I see.
Color dancing ceiling tiles, please oh please just stay a while.
More.
Running up hills to lift off with Chinese lantern filled skies.

Strawberry pouch and scattered glass.
I'll write about you for years to come,
like the rising sun, and then some.
Lift my hands with yours, pull me in and let me reside until I find my own.
You found me here,
in a shaken phase, laughing face.
Messy hair, soft lips, small hands and eyes that stare.
Into you,
staring into me.
Write silent poetry while you touch my thighs.
torn muscles from running so hard, for so long.
permeated with the sound of swan songs.

Never knew.
Hate could've been such a lover.
Until we find another.
All straps come lose,
and you're free from here,
so you stay with me.
Summer scented Moon-lit safety.
Reach in.
Pull me out and dance in this white noise.

S.M.
080415

Swamp Geometry

The complexities in life are so delicately intricate that we forget just how terrifically strong the bonds hold. Until we are enraptured in gigantic weaving webs on bridges at irrelevant hours, or in a color melting conch shell just outside of our comfort level, but directly on the line of our own parallel thought processes.
There is no escape, absolutely none and in that moment we realize we do not need to escape.
I closed my eyes and the wind carries me so perfectly, wrapping around us like a blanketed energy, particles that absorb until they are larger, swallowing us, then giving birth to us again.
Over... and over... We bloom.
Tossing us into the ocean and telling us 'lay in fields and watch the sky,' every time the lightening struck the ground it hit us. Electrified and reborn.
We have transcended over time continually, We are those who still connect to this connection, just So.
Cradled in soft cosmic hands that you haven't held in years, and you feel everything in your chest, catching your breath, sending chills up your spine. Mouth opens you gasp for air.
You miss everything that was, but know, it always IS.
Your hair is encapsulating us we needed the cocoon to hardened so we could crack and emerge, again.
Over... and over...
Purple refractions and flames that cover what we've sacrificed to get back to where we belong.
Time elapsed, slowed down, focused and spun us back onto our feet.
We are standing, but falling, floating, gently.
Soft feathers of your wings you had in past lives.
Flying, to future lives to remind us.
Revisit this place. Focusing the rear view mirror and catching shadows.
Every so often collide into these complexities with confidence that we are there.
Together holding hands. Like always.
I love you.

— with Leala Farnsworth and Kristen Norton.

Vague inbetweens

Out reach

I belong to She.
With soft light resonating, I belong to me.
Aura cleansed, skin shed.
Bright Moon,
She said,
Let me See. Let me See.
Waved her hands through starry skies,
Ascending vision, those who speak, will not tell me lies.
Conjure pure winds with the thick summer air,
tying knots into silken hair.
Bound to me, or set against.
It's your choice, this is your test.

I sit upon a flower bed, braiding crowns for her sleepy head.
The way you moved me doesn't mean much,
when you move another the same way.
I'm the silent one with a lot to say.
Far away and never seen, just a taste,
then into the night with much haste.
I can't stay here when I'm floating away.
Kisses placed into your hands,
"Maybe another day."

S.M.
7/31/15

Best friend

Dearest LealaLove

Our Venus is in full flourish while Jupiter is about to eagerly engulf.
An 8 years of shedding skin has full circled us,
Here we are, still holding hands.
Sparkling eyes and our laughter heard for decades before and beyond.
My golden queen, Faerie mother, with your soft arms always held out.
Nature runes, random prose, colored glass, a combined soul that knows.
I spend my happiest times with you, never allowing me to spread too thin.
Always coaxing out of our peripheral shells,
I place my seeds in your palm.
Face up with the sunshine floating down to kiss our eyes.
There is a difference between best friends and soul sisters that have intertwining stories.
Years mean nothing when we have spent lifetimes traveling together.
Speaking soft syllables and melodic imagery to each other through dreams spaces,
that we often and luckily fall into the inbetweens.
Where we know each other best.
I love you.
Happy year 30.