Now fading Touch turning into fingers melting into skin Burning through flesh Marking our bodies … like ash traces like sod from The Spreading Fire Transitioning Going, going, gone I have only just begun Oh how sorrowful and exciting this parting Sounds of tears and snorts coming from my right As we sigh our goodbyes visually impaired Am I mist clouding my insides blurring vision blocking out .. preventing me…
Somewhere in between mouthfuls I look up. I look up and catch your eyes across the table. Mid-air, hovering wet. Break. Break. With a breath I pluck them both, scoop them up from somewhere above the water pitcher, and put them in my pocket safe. Blinking, we continue. – Punch lines delivered backs of hands kissed stories shared, ripe and full skins shining red This songs melody dogged and swerving…
When the moon begins to float away And the sun rises in the west When Pluto is one planet away from earth And there’s a rainstorm on Venus When we find water on a star And the Tides are higher than all skyscrapers When the soil is no longer fertile And the Roses still grow When a Spreading Fire extinguishes the oceans And a Mouse is the first one to…
It closes behind me, yet the hum of sound still penetrates the walls of the Sun, though it quickly fades as I slowly move away. I have spent a turbulent time in parallel. In poesis, sympoesis, together-poetry. In (non)sense-making, sensing, sensuality and sensitivity. And I treasure the memories. Of the first entry, in early spring, of the questions leading to a story, a story defining the inside of me. Questions…
Leaving the sun, is like leaving a warm fireplace, letting go of an embrace from an old friend or maybe even exiting the womb from where all life have its entry point. I leave with my glittering sneakers in one hand, soft pink fluffy llama notebook in the other and my eyes fixed on the first of two red doors you have to open, before natural sunlight will hit my…
