reclaim your voice.
I never really bought into the mythical “falling” into love. I believe in the mystical “rising” into love. The fairy dust of ancestral work. The initial dopamine seed hooks into dirt. The slow growth of oxytocin filled fibrous roots. Beauty grows, oxygen rises in the breath of The never-ending kiss of Heaven and Earth. We…
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Some sex workers Are independent, self-employed Negotiating the game With the forgotten, or unenjoyed Wide lens teaches Wisdom settles into bed “Every partnership has its jail” Beneath the sheets, this soul does not shed It wins them no money Instead a kind of sustenance Sugar-coated power, control An energy here, in abundance Emotional currency Not…
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truth shifts to trust with one required base pair reassignment. … trutH; drop the grand Hoax shush the lies to self and other sink back into your primordial slime reorganize, safely within your self-made cocoon. truSt; add the ultimate Sacrifice to give up who you are emerge with naked wings exposed trusting-self to know, who…
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“The only way is to hug the cactus.” Her inebriated lips casually spill over his black denim-ed lap. “I guess this means you must hug me,” he speaks. “With each puncture, you will learn to breathe. My intent is not to hurt you.” {I am certain he seeks to not collapse into breath} She hears…
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I carry an anthology in today’s everything bag. I pull it out while waiting for the next thing: coffee, the nurse to call me in, the bus to come, the sky to fall. Reading it exponentiates shared stories, raising internal voices, outing me into the crowd, the transport, the enshrined clouds. I find myself glancing…
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Whiskey sour. Whiskey sweet. Wisk her heart. Beat her Eggs into an om Lette her devour it From a thirstless hunger. You know best, After all. And yet, She knows enough Not to run on An empty storm Ache. __ photo by samane mohammadi on unsplash. om, n., a mystic syllable, considered the most sacred mantra in Hinduism and Tibetan…
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image from 1944 film Gaslight, starring Ingrid Bergman and Charles Boyer, source: “What Does Gaslight Even Mean?“ __ can I stop by?I need a needle and thread to sew on a button. can I stop by? I need your advice. I stepped in. I had to.can you believe he would hit is own mother? can I…
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I find our tribal human mind will always fight against the heart, missing the soul of the matter at hand. Unless the steady mentor’s brush meets the tree’s gold-infused sap, patiently stroking our scars to rejoin us we remain broken, shards of ceramic tea pots, waitingto pair our bitter matchawith their coupled sweet. __ This…
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At the age of 22, I met the 63-year-old Armenian woman who had given me up for adoption. On the evening of that breathtaking day I stood in her bedroom. We spoke through our reflection in the mirror in front of us. I felt small, not in the five-foot way I was used to, but…
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