Casting shadow on a foreign shore,
resting at lee an alien sea,
will the same sun rise?
Indigenous to no land,
failed native to plain and forest,
field and shingle;
traveling darkly through earth and sky,
seeking solace wherever umbral self wakes,
wherever dawn catches me waiting for her.
Come,
find me open and unadorned,
reclining in my nature,
waiting the honest hunger of your kiss.
If I am beauty,
let it be for something more
than these fragile wings;
If I am sustenance,
let it be for me as much as you,
for others as much as ourselves.
In this new instant of delight,
submitting to need,
united in separate purpose,
Come.
He took it each morning,
a pickpocket
snatching the prayer from sacred lips;
ducking out the door with prize and bagel.
All day held close,
tucked in breast pocket,
constantly drawing his hand
to feel it pulse in matching time.
He would take it out when alone,
whispered like a secret,
filling mouth and mind
til he could bare it no more,
passing it joyfully across his lips.
he returned it each evening,
tangled up into her,
spent and warm;
gave it back the way he'd taken it:
a quiet thief passionately repenting.
He'd take it again in the morning.
A hidden language,
secret, silken braille,
read with quiet finger tips,
hungry palms;
In curves and angles,
sacred geometry of arms and hips,
arched back,
smiling cheeks:
Veiled myths and lost prayers
Unspoken.
The history of who I want to be.
She delights in the world;
Delights in me.
Creates space with smile and spark,
where I bloom into abandon and absurdity.
She becomes joy in the company of light,
strength in darkness,
alive in my arms.
Some held tight by magnetism,
some gravity;
They were together entangled;
Distance
no factor in effect;
never too far,
too close;
Wrapped each always in the other
so there was no other.
No other.
What we were
in the shadows of street lamps and neon,
multiplied and refracted by storefront windows,
by each others eyes,
could not maintain
beneath inspection and incandescence.
Empty your bones:
Far as they've brought you
they haven't been strong enough.
Worn with fear
and the pressure of tomorrow;
drain them on hungry earth,
And fill them up again
with all the ways
I believe in you.
Crawling up from earth,
reaching for something new in myself;
I'll grow wings by moonlight
and dawn will find me a thing of air.
grey maned dandelions
dodging tiny spouts of flame
roar and snap at brazen dragonfly bombardiers
quiet evening in the park
This started as more than a #speedlit bit, and I'm still hoping something longer might come out of it, but what I realized, as I started piling on ladybugs and damselflies and such was too much poorly done detracts from the image rather than improving it. This felt like a good stopping point until I have a better sense of how to properly construct a fuller scene.