Wednesday, July 27, 2011

Separately Connected

Write to me the way you speak,
In your own mind at night,
When you're too tired to fight fears, dreams and secret thoughts.

Unveil who you are, behind strengths clung to in waking hours,
Moving you through moments... right now, and now...
Outfits viewed by those around you,
Filling in holes of roles unfulfilled
For yourself and others.

Tell me your truth,
With or without constants.
I want to watch you in growing motion
See what brings you from there to here,
And know that while you go,
You'll keep me near.

Sunday, July 24, 2011

Held Here

It's the summer of my adult heart,
Who survived Winter's song, cold and long,
And Springs of growing pains.

My soul is wider now,
Having slept curled in blacks and whites,
Safe beneath their weight.
In the end it was the grey that brought the light,
And lines drawn so dark and deep between the Universe and me -
They fell away.

I saw her then.
Sitting across from me, swirls of energy,
While soft light sparked in eyes and hearts,
And background chatter played over
Jazz notes and drink orders.

I sat so still.
She looked searchingly at me,
Trying to see what she already knew.
I hold her in my mind there;
Under transparent masks, unprepared
For what she'd find in our spaces combined.
She didn't dance outside for long,
Her soul so brave, determined, strong...

I observed awhile, didn't trust
Myself enough to move an inch.
Patience.

She called me out so slowly,
Not knowing it was when she didn't try.
The way her head fell back, the thoughtful sigh,
The scent in her breath of the air inside her
Whispered invitations to explore.

Her lips...
My fingertips felt so alive
When I watched the soft curves in that slow smile,
And heard my hands plead leave to reach out,
Let them touch that mouth,
Swim in the sense like my eyes did the sight.
"So unfair", they cried,
Jealous of the rest of me.

But I won't hold them tight for long,
I know what it is she speaks of now.
Instinct longing to be unthinking.
I'll let it take the rest of me,
Let go the hold on a sense of safety I,
no longer have to seek.

I'll learn what it means to set myself free.

Thursday, July 7, 2011

Clean Hands

Naked hands open to last year's hurricanes,
Blown clean and breathing
Freedom.
I remembered then
What my skin feels like
Smooth and young,
Uncovered.

I let myself in on my own secret;
I never liked the feel of it there.

So strange to wake from moments
Floating between
Presence in my aloneness here
And random thoughts of you -
To discover my thumb checking,
Between second and third fingers
Involuntarily.