talk it through and take it over
soft, soft
painting, shifting the shapes
off-rhyme words to divide it

piece it, peace it out

I have taken out the stitches,
the scars are turning to bright
ghosts, I am quilted and lovely -
I am a quiet symphony of delight

she holds the lightening bolt power
crystal prisms, the promised facets,
lighting in sparkle array the shadows
that still sit on your pretty face

I don't have to save you . . .
couldn't even if you needed me to -

"I can re-arrange my own stars"

and I really love that about you -

all those little
all those little altars
all those little altars everywhere

perceptual illusions to glue it together
incidental imagery, practicing your
tactile abilities -

my synapses are a cacophony of
fire and smoke, this grey matter
reality, this crystalline rainbow smile -

scented fragments of meaning -

shifting and sifting, hey baby,
I really want to
loosen your stride -

tangential, was that your intuition,
your initiation?  it was pre-wired
into my beingness - it is in my blood -
I can sell you this little bottle of
spirited away things - snake oil praise -

enumerate my stars, whisper their
names on the back of my neck -

I like your universe hands, I like the
things they say -

our words have a beingness, and you
listen to my truth, giving it a home,
you let me unfold inside the safe space -

you can hold me and my wings, no hand raises
in this space against me - the tears form a river,
and you let them flow to the sea -

solipsis of sophistication, sweet taste of
the heightened day - the hibisicus blooming,
the moqui ball was spirited away by black
panther moving through sunlight sway -

triangles facilitate being, there was an error
in the air - "you can breathe now, you are safe" -

no need to monitor the decline, eating violets
and nastarium, silk ribbons tied into the supine -
slip on in, it is warm on the inside - no worries -

"You can handle snakes,
                                            . . . . right?"

bring me the waterfalling day
take me under, drown in the sway ~
rainbow saturation,
     "Hey, do you believe in 'G'?"

follow pattern waves, fluid rave
Blow me away with words?
you are the crystal cave

"Let's get back to the theory"

Dogma is dogma, not evidence,
if I have access to the oracle,
why would I ask the liar for truth?

I like random, I like elements
thrown in at periodic intervals ~

take the junk factors off the table,
I'm a creative girl, I live outside
the box -

     My heart is smoke
     My heart is water

mass bends space time, you
blow my mind, peppermint
snap swag, ideational fluency ~

slow it down, take my thyme ~

riverbank alightment, chilling
in your yellow carriage, all those
china teacups, all those loosing
brain cells ~ "when the spirit
moves her" he whispers,

"we are emotional creatures,
masquerading as logical beings"

parsimonious explanations
to expand the flow

Grandmother waits for me, tall cliff,
deep cave, she knows i belong inside
with the phoenix fire and the crystal bones.

i felt like i had gotten it all wrong,
i had lockered my voice on the pretty
boy express, he had wrinkled hands
so i thought he was known ~
he loved me,
he loved me to death.

i wanted to remember how to breathe ~
i had to tear open my neck so i could
re-seed the memory ~

"how do you do?"

we are fragments inside this winged
angel design, here is my voice, here
is my echo prize ~ she binds the wounds,
she sings me into the sweet sleep ~
slip under, go so deep you come out
into a new daylight, it is just on the other side.

I am the doe, I am the eagle.
I am the dove, I am the snake.
hold me in both sides of your mind,
and with careful volcano blow
you will start to get the idea,

Divine.

i was gliding on winter wings, over the
steaming water of clear, hot springs ~
i saw the alligators and i forgot how
to fly, i slogged along on top of their
backs, i tiptoed along their danger
sides, until i found my way out, - finding
the way ~ gulping breath, tree top air.

i am standing in the new day ~ cardinal
song to greet me, the taloned one brought
me a skeleton key story ~ karma comes
and goes, she knows some things even i
don't, her price is fair if not easy ~

you must forgive all the debts, every one ~

then she will make sure they are all
collected, in full and with interest ~
go ahead, and call her a bitch ~ you
called me a whore ~ and i am still
standing, I am still me inside of me ~

red woman shimmering in the full
moon light ~ she is claiming her
children, she is calling them home.

we move inside the mountain, my
lineage hangs out in spiral shine,
they are all inside my mind, they
are inside my bones, etched deep,
walking in between the worlds ~

if you are looking for me,
you will find me in the garden,
tree root dreaming

on these nights when I
forget how to sleep,
I light the candles
one, two, three

the star shine looks
down on me; they
love me ~ bare-bone
thin and they want to
feed me

one week ago, I
woke up to a cold
morning, and saw
the doe in the garden,
she stood in soft solidarity
beside Magdalene

my life is full of these
dreams
that are not
dreams

tears fill my eyes and
my heart breaks open
it is the honey bee
treasure
it is the butterfly
medicine

it fills in the holes
left by the shattered
glass

she looks at me, she
knows the name within
my name - my feet have
been charged, they
know the way

so you and I, take
the full moon walk,
and drink owlish wine
out of clay cups ~

we laugh until we cry,
tender hands to draw
closed the tears ~ it
is the sweetest, safest
place to look at the little
girl's sad, hopeful face ~

I have listened, and pulled
out the quiet night tune ~
let's slip out of these heart
break boots, and see what
we can do . . . .

hey, I really like . . .
I really like your yellow
t-r-u-c-k.

I have a basket full of mason jars
and dandelion wine ~

wanna sneak off
and pretend
to get
d-r-u-n-k?

you know I like to take it real slow ~
on your mark, get set, ready . . .

~

I have this little trunk
full of tiny, lost things ~
all these lonely keys ~

they never did find a lock ~
what the fuck is that all about?

I have a history of
falling for demons and
monks - the sparking
edges of a pretty and
sick mind ~ do you mind?

wanna make a bet?

hand me the black book,
been there and back,
riveted by your hook ~

riveted by my hooking ~

can't wait to see how you
make the catch,

can't wait to see how you
throw it back.

every night, when I look
out my window, there
is a bright light moving
from the south to the north ~

it disappears and then begins
its spiral trajectory once again ~

it is just something i know ~

i am sitting on an outcropping
of limestone looking over
the universe lake ~ all water
moves, with slow undulation or
with hurried tripping
toward the sea

i watch the heron, fly
by, three times ~
twice alone, the last
time, not

it is the echo heart
it is the echo start

pebbles in the mind,
ripple reflection, i
have heard stories
about this mirror
behind my eyes

come in closer,
closer, whisper
words, i want to
see ~

i couldn't ask, i
wouldn't have known
how, but somehow
it was just given
to me ~

i told him
i told him about the shatter
i told him about the shattered glass
and he said
it was
okay

laughter is peeling off the wallpaper ~
hold my hand across these snowy miles ~
picking lemon peels off the floor of my
survival ~ kissing lips that are all salt and
sugar ~ tick tock time, hour glass sand ~
we are beach bound and bouncing off
the clouds ~ your hand at the small of my
back and I try to breathe, in then out ~

"Wait until spring . . . "

he sends me pennies in paper envelopes,
skipping across the blue sky days ~
he glues them, tails down onto
green glass buttons ~ he tells me I can
wear my yellow slip or not because he doesn't
really mind, one way or the other ~

I am busy in the orchard, the medicine
pulses through my veins, I am almost
bloodless but that will change with the
warming of the days, I know now to never
kiss a vampire on the neck ~ that is more
knowledge than I had before so that is
something, right?   I still shine inside my
mind, it takes more than some broken teeth
to destroy my lemonade life ~

I am waking up with the truth
of the trees ~ I am me, inside of me, anyone else
who comes inside of me is a guest, and they are to
honor me and mine ~ and I will know how to offer
them the same on silver platter nights ~ but it will
wait, in the cocoon stillness, until the days strike
a balance between the black and the white ~

wait, wait ~ lips poised over lips ~ I will show
you why the sun flares towards the wax and the
wane of the moon ~ send me your morning word
and I will crochet you a small pocket poem ~ it
will keep you warm on cold nights, it will pour
sweetness into your dreams ~ lay it on the floor
and it will fill your room with my voice ~
tonight the moon will hang it all in the balance,
inspiring us toward the coming vision dream,
when winter's ghost wraps around the bones of spring.