Moonstruck
The Moon doesn’t care about logic; she’s all about how it feels. She rests in the sky, beheld by a wolf, a lobster, and a dog, who gather beside flowing water.
When we experience emotion, do we domesticate it, or do we allow it to run wild?
Background music: “Black Swan Event” by The Lizzy Co Show
Shoebox
A shoebox, tucked away in a closet,
Buried deep in geologic layers
Of coats and shoes and cozy down blankets,
Tied tight with string, sealed with silent prayers.
A tidy stack of images within;
Some curling-yellow from an ancient time,
Still others, sharp as a handsome man’s grin.
Lift up the box, brush off the flakes of grime.
Upend it, make a space for something new;
Wipe out the dusty corners, make it clean.
Fill up the box with pictures that feel true,
New photos that explain just what you mean.
The closet can be opened and aired out.
I never again have to go without.
Monochrome
The local park is lit in monochrome;
Someone replaced all the streetlights with green.
It’s giving Great Gatsby vibes from the tone;
I always thought that Daisy was so mean.
The leaves cannot be real. They are so bright,
My eyes mistook their glow for moontowers.
A perfect medium wavelength of light,
The green sets off the radiant flowers.
I do not have to yearn from far away;
I do not pine for what other hands hold.
Much less a Daisy, more a Daisy Mae;
My fingers never knew the touch of gold.
The light at the end of my dock is lit.
Let’s see who rows across to be with it.
Small Talk
Can you believe that small talk still exists,
When thunder is a thing that can be found?
I lit a candle, burned up all the lists;
Turns out, I knew the thunder by its sound.
The estuary cannot be the sea;
A calm pond only knows its tiny home.
There is a broader version of my need;
I cannot meet it with my hands alone.
A thunderstorm at sea is perilous;
The tallest ships are the first taken down.
I have no fear, the waves won’t come for us;
The lightning will miss, thunder is just loud.
Small talk is safe, but it lives on the shore.
Sometimes, the heart just wants a little more.
Undeterred
A certain type of vulnerable’s hot
In women, I have observed over time,
But when it comes to the things that I’ve got,
The boys just never want to come be mine.
I cannot put my finger on the gap
Where my CV could use some bolstering;
Each time I’m not the one, another slap,
Another time I’m tossed out of the ring.
I cannot be the key, I am the lock;
I cannot make myself small and fit in.
I cannot deny the power I’ve got;
I kill it when I lose and when I win.
So what kind of man wants to be with that,
Undeterred by the feathers in my cap?
Lamp
The lamp, forgotten downstairs, in a rush:
It burns, then flickers, then becomes the night.
The banister: it knows nothing but touch;
Some hands hold it so gently, some so tight.
The doorknob, burnished by years of living:
The sentinel that watches as we move.
It does nothing to reveal misgivings,
It makes no effort to cause harm or soothe.
The candles, in a silver chandelier:
They are the only remnant of the sun.
Draw circle wide with salt, and have no fear;
You are so safe, there’s pleasure to be done.
Your hands on my back as we slowly sway;
I’ve been looking forward to this all day.
Cards
I asked the cards, they said: “Don’t be afraid.”
I did not seek a second opinion;
They told me in three very different ways;
They told me not to fear the coming win.
The cards joined hands and voices, spoke as one:
“How much work will it take for you to feel
Like you contain enough good to be loved,
Like all the kindness you receive is real?
Take off your giant glasses, rub your eyes;
What stands before you, unfamiliar,
Is not a threat.” Now that is a surprise.
“Believe it, this one’s all meat, no filler.”
To be seen, as a goddess, not as prey:
I never fucking thought I’d see the day.
Wingspan
I’m done with all the birds with broken wings;
I can’t fly with that flock, I’m healed and whole.
I can’t be with a lover who won’t sing;
I can’t pretend that I don’t have a soul.
I’m done with thinking that I need too much;
I won’t hear that I’m taking too much space.
I can’t believe how long I used a crutch,
When I could always walk so tall, with grace.
I’m done reaching for hands that don’t want me;
I didn’t know that I could be sought out.
I want my heart to pound, but not to bleed;
I want someone who makes their feelings loud.
A bird, with gloriously broad wingspan;
Keep up with me, my lover, if you can.
Covenant
The blood of the covenant is thicker
Than the water of the womb, isn’t it?
My life, so particularly richer
For learning what came after ellipsis.
A path is worn by daily intention;
You cannot fake the muscle memory.
To love someone sails beyond good reason;
Be sure to stock the ship for all your needs.
The water has been poisoned, but it’s fine;
The blood is healthy, it is here to serve.
The cup will pass from your hand into mine,
Then back again; we share what we deserve.
Two dagger-slit palms, crimson-mingled clasp;
The things you need are here within your grasp.
Expand
Expansion happens one shift at a time;
Plate tectonics are not things to be rushed.
A volcano is chaos by design.
The edge: for when you’re ready to be pushed.
A molten core is meant to be contained;
It shrieks at shocking air and twists its jaw.
It becomes something strange, takes a new name;
There’s no excuse for ignorance of law.
First safe, then red, then black, then steaming-cool;
The rain comes, makes it irreversible.
Not the type to compress into a jewel;
More likely to float; so impossible.
Expansion comes: how will the cells divide?
The lava never does get to decide.
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All my best,
