recyclable

like the circle of life
so is the cycle of our love
always giving back and more than enough to go around.

my fear never realized, nightmarish situations now dissipate like mist on a moor once exposed to the sun.

truth of real energy, soul sustenance and forever pushing me to be a better version of myself, in the way we interact.
giving and taking and taking and giving and living every day as normal
on pluto.
for all those friends I thought would be neglected or not thought of or left in my "life before you" hasn't happened.
and won't.
for the kindness in you, the kindness in me, is a foreign kind of moss that grows from our love and seeps over and settles down in every crevice of
our lives
before
Our Life.
we are not changed, but enriched.

which is what I have always dreamed of, boldly hoped for, sought after, thinking a dream to be reality.
if he was the one.

you are love. we are recycled.

vm

i've told you once or twice
told all my friends
it is so nice
to receive
a lovely message
just for me.

but you remembered, took note indeed
that when i speak i mean it
and left me messages,
take heed,
which were so sweet and full of heart
that i vehemently refuse to part.

with the messages.
with you.

moving home

your skin i don't know
your breath i imagine
the way you look when you're relaxed
or rush back inside to get something you've forgotten.

your heart beats as fast as mine
so far away
you are right next to my ear through a thousand miles of air
and your words increase my gasps of incessant surprise and delight.
never before have i known a stranger so well.
never before have i let myself be known.
i do not hold back because this is not all those other times when it wasn't quite right.

spirits asking and offering answers to questions never uttered aloud, but heard all the same.


if this is what being myself with you means, then let us never be apart.

home at long last.
welcome, love.

It is the end.

It is the end
Of something good and powerful
It is the circle of love, the endless life that flows throughout us all. 
Lifting and tilting and spinning us round
The sun
My sun
Who understood my tongue
And yours was intertwined with the
Small of my back and entranced with the way that we were and the freedom you felt
Always what I wanted 
Never quite enough, by choice
Wishing I could fit, him hoping I was willing to stay
Torn between the past of love and memories of shared moments that touched the way I think about what I desire,
And the part of me that knows it wasn't quite right. Wasn't quite the best, although you are so wonderfully kind, and thoughtful and take delight in my smallest of movements. 

You wouldn't let me in. 
The door stayed closed. 
And I walked down the hallway. 

Maybe there are other doors;
That open. 
To hope. 

if in the end

you feel like the world is crashing down and you just can't stand
to be alone
let me in
because i'm right here
if you can see with those glasses on in the dark.
right next to your face.

but this time it won't be the last day or cloud or never mind i got this or frankly i don't know why you give a shit.
if you let me hold your hand we can always see
through the lies in our mouths to
the pain of the beauty of truth
that lies within
our souls.

fly and fall and reach and retch this venom far from your door
and open it
to
let me in.
we can solve this.
if in the end, you want a kinship.

three strands

we are easily broken
weaving and washing
three rivers flowing in and out of this ocean we are
one continent to the next
managing to hold tight stretched
across and below
the waters of
one another.

dragging in and pulling towards the center always
as we each go our own
way
of the fool
trying to thrive
and survive the battles we siege
but this fortress within
these ties that we've bound
hold.

and these sisterstrands
belong.
love, above and below.  these waters we are.

fanciful tones

sometimes i want to linger
mingle
stay
in these moments that pass
that are thrown
my way.
they frolic and flit like a fairy right through
my scene
and i jump for them
dive for them
grasp through the pinch
that i may be able to hold
on.

but they fly
and i scream
and we part
and i pass
and it makes for a terrible dream
in the day
in the night
in the fog where it's bright
and you can't see what's ahead or behind

just now.  for the tragedy isn't the leaving, but staying

the only part harder than pain is the sadness
that will cling
if i stay,
do not move.
for these moments i'm in will
not leave me no never
but it is i

yes oh i
must move on to be with them
as they surround.

every side.
i am full
i am in it
this moment is mine and will
always

be.