Windswept words, barren, empty, whisked away like so many dandelion seeds. Dreams that never formed nor took flight; whimsical longings caught up to heaven on the breath of mourning. Sometimes it’s that I do not know the outcome. Sometimes it is precisely that I do. But wishes ever ride the tide of something, I always thought for me could not…
. . . and what are dreams but the smoldering desires of the subconscious? Illusive, wispy thoughts wavering in liquid silver on moonlit starry nights; sweet warm breaths of longing that tousle the hair and flutter the soul; wide yearning opening it’s delicately sensuous fingers to caress the throbbing edges of the mind.
I yearn to live within the poetry of my soul eyes that see more than I know, connected to a realm I somehow sense in disappearing images that brush the corners of my sight and leave me feeling I missed something– unfeigned, authentic, breathtaking, slipping between primordial fingers till I turn, closing eyes of blind sight to find the thing…
Photo Courtesy of Lulu Lovering Living to get, getting to gain, gaining to spend, the cycle rewinds, replays the same. This can’t be the plan but the spin doesn’t stop. We’re centrifugal ears that hear out of tune on a carnival ride that makes weak eyes roll. Out of focus, out of kilter, our feet shuffle in place, hands hang…
Photo Courtesy of Cheryl Twin Peaks Twin peaks meet at their cleavage– the swells of Mother Mountain’s breasts as she lies in cold, silent repose. Ridges continue along naked horizon, her knees drawn up, feet planted firm. Her lover lies on his side toward her– large mound of man-hip rising, sloping, poised. Awaiting the day they two will join again as…
Photo Courtesy of Monique Kittan The Alabaster Shell Milky white alabaster skin, unnatural rouge-rosy color high on my cheekbones, I never wore rouge. Lips like wet cherry, shiny, silken hair, delicately smooth, pale peachy hands, sleek, shapely, mauve-painted nails, I never wore nail polish (though I always loved mauve.) I had bulgy, blue-green veins that moved when my grandson fingered…