seconds of air
are better than none.......
E. Zora Knight
I am not good at these things...
Never have been...
I am not sure where to start.
Everyone I've ever believed truly loved me no longer walks upon the Earth. No! I am not a martyr.
I have never been able to foster and develop the most important relationship in a child's life outside of one with the creator. One with my mother...
NOT AN EXCUSe...
For that reason, it is difficult for me to connect with another human being... I LONG FOR intimate relationships (platonic and romantic).. Yet I struggle... How do I know how to love unconditionally when the blue print or the how to guide in my DNA remains neatly folded tucked away in my mind's heart...
Everyone else I believed TRULY loved me died before I was 11. My Great Grand was the last one.... I had glimpses in a favorite Aunt who passed away days before I was to return home for my HS reunion....
My Grand was a difficult woman. I believed I spent most of my life trying to make her proud or show a sign that she genuinely loved me... I mean I know she loved me, it's just... well...
This is not some no one loved me as a kid stuff.... I was loved... yet
My adult significant other relationships have been based upon my relationship with my Grand. Which means I have spent my life loving someone more than they loved me. Trying to make them love me which often led to relationships which failed miserably... Each of them reeked of my Grand. They were also plagued with my dysfunction and disconnect...
YOU... make me want to connect on so many levels... YOU.. are my great grand's love. YOU.. are my mother's love...
AND I AM SO AFRAID.....
How do I make this work in the absence of fear and dysfunction?
YOU love me and I know it. I feel it in every breath that fills my lungs.... And while I will attempt to minimize and downplay my feeling for you in a crowded room of strangers and people I'm really... not trying to impress....
I LOVE YOU!!! And I don't know what's so friggin hard about that....
I love you.... And I won't squander another day trying to suppress my feeling out of fear. and routine. and friggin laziness...
i love you... and i will never deny the depth of that love to anyone ever again....
It doesn't mean Autumn is no longer my favorite ...
It remains the same nostalgic beauty pulling blood and conjuring blues from my soul..
A pleasurable pain, I must learn to forget...
just not (ready) yet...
September, while painful, nearly a favorite month, as it is.. the ending and beginning.
Sometimes we have to start at the end to get back to the middle..
I don't want the beginning..
have always, will always be.. the middle.
I hold a tear in each palm..
they find their way back to each other
in some form...
even if they evaporate
slip into gaseous state
they. u. me.
Cool breezes carry memories I can't shake.. The anticipation of colder leaner months, chill my bones and cause my thoughts to chatter anxiously like teeth clip click clapping a top one another in the dead of Winter.
Leaves under feet, crush, crackle and I think of laughter and smiles..
Your laughter. Your smile.
Thoughts clip click clap chatter... shaking feelings chilling my bones...
It's mid Autumn.
Trees, much like our connection... sparse and barren..
Lonely disconnects waiting for warmth moisture
Doesn't mean I don't reminiscence....
Doesn't mean I don't stand in the emotion despite the anticipation of OUR COLD winter chill ever present in mood and rooms..
Perhaps you will never know...
Reds, browns and golds remain my favorite color....
The smell of cracked burning wood causes my heart to flutter...
And the leaves, well, they carry their simple message upon the missing breeze.....
absent, yet present.
"the body, not spirit, always leaves...
remember me in the leaves... look for me in the spring..."
no one told me it would hurt this
dabbed precisely 'round the earlobes
sweet thick like molasses
(soon turning stomachs)
nothing else/ doesn't matter..
as does the pain..
it's not good
and i pray
u caught a glimpse
from my eyes..
caught a whiff
in the air
i continue to dab slightly
the haunting familiar
you have placed a song in my heart.... the words, like my love for you intensify each day. making it more difficult to articulate. i can't sing. nor can i dance.. yet there is a beat. a rhythm. a tune. i bob my head to the beat resonating in my blood cells, forcing my heart to skip beats and scratch memories of a previous life without you from my skin...
Smoke wisps past fullness of lightly glossed lips
lingers round fresh clipped fingertips
forms grey rings in darkness
one second past midnight…
Tiffany ring on fourth finger,
tightened by the rushed flush of blood cells
flowing from my pocketbook
to my heart then back again
it’s echoed beats
forms golden rings
passionately curving my
heart’s thoughts ‘round your soul…
somewhere there is a
tenth generation sapling
growing within and into it’s
a million miles from its’ origin.
a descendant of the first seed
that fell from the first fruit
slipped from the first she’s
curled tainted and tinted lips
first enticing bite...
the first circle of life
the first of the first
then buries itself
into the thick rich soil
encircling our first mother’s ankles
covering her toes…
it grows in the shadowed remains
of obscured providence
when G.O.D. once saw us as he saw himself
and we saw ourselves as stars
orbiting moments and eras,
before falling from grace in this space as human…
and I am stilled.
to and fro
and still see…
the inception of heaven
the birth of earth
in the warmth sphere
illuminating from the doe brown in your eyes.
the glow of your smile
the vibrant colors that
circle, swirl and burn
just above your head.
you are not a cliché’.
I’l l never refer to you as my angel,
I’m not saying it’s a halo,
but, there’s a ring,
ringing, beaming, gleaming, sitting
slightly crooked above you head…
and it is calling me…
ringing me from sweet slumber
ringing and reminding me…
and I’m listening…
listening to the ringing resonating
in the hummed ring
ringing rhythmically with the sway from your hips
the hummed ring
of sweet summer stickied bitterness of forgotten love
the hummed ring
from aged and aching bended knees in prayer..
the hummed ring
wringing tears from my pained love
and I’m searching for
my being, my truth,
I’m searching for
my mother’s hazel eyes
and her waning influence
in the fog hazed rings
my moon… my star isolated in
my light burning so brightly
it convinces my mind it’s blinded darkness
There are rings ‘round Saturn
like infinity and destiny
You and me.
My figure eight, eternal…
Ringing, singing, being,
Looping like a good bad love song
Over and over
Black vinyl skipping,
Penny weighed needle on a
Bass booming atop
Rims and 22’s
Stilled spins at concrete cracked stoops
speeding toward yesteryear
There are rings in tress,
Unyielding never ending
Coming full circle…
Like the curiosity of my hungered tongue
Circling your nipples, navels and things
There are rings
And they are ringing
Rings ringing in mind
Dangling from ears
Circling our fingers
Our three rings
I’m swirling in circles
Following, examining rings
Rings on stomach, hips and things
proof of life…
You me, connected indefinitely..
You an eternal flame
Scorching inside me
And the smoke…
Escapes with the words
Swirling from the rings
Buried deep within me…
section 8 coffee
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