spaces

drip
    drip
  ……. drip
let the droplets accumulate in a pool of an insignificant amount
allow them to flow from the tap
                                 from the brow
                                 from your eyes
                                 from the moment
a part of you comes tearing from the being
crying to be let back in
that ultimate expression of creativity
                                  of longing
to see someone else exhibit our love

at the turn of the road
                          the hour
                        the minute
                               this week
                                                   that month
                                                   of that year
                     when finally

you will learn to forget
what it was like to wait
                           to long
                           to want
                           to be loved
                           to be held
                         to be yearned

   to be smiled at

your resting heart rate should be 71
                                             should be this
                                          and a bit of that
                                         and a lot of what
                                                 others want
                                                 others need
                                                  others claim

                         breathe
allow yourself to grieve
in order to be free
to be one
to be many
to be whole
to he here
now.

cross border firing

there is in the air an absence of memory
a forgetting of happenings
a face becoming hard to place
the contours shift
the smile is fading
all that remains is a phrase
‘it’s raining here too…’
bryan adams asks for forgiveness
in the background.
what’s there to forgive?
but to forget….
so much
a lifetime
two lifetimes
maybe more
Jung lives in the recesses of your dreams
where neither you nor your mother win
and the man you love is neither a vomitus
nor a projection of your father
forgive me if I seem irrelevant
somewhere in my wake and dream
I like myself as I am
a punctuation mark between the war
that tore my being into two countries
hating both
loving all
I breach the laws of borders
with the wind blowing hither and thither
pulsating between right and wrong
I make your morning bread
with due respect
and an apology not needed I
make my bed like I am the only one
who will sleep here tonight
not waiting for your approval
like a foreign office stamp
that will allow me to cross the border
to eat with my friends
the woman in you needs permission
from the wolves only
rapture of a higher psyche
a reversal of fortune
men dont exist
where women live
they breathe because you do

spaces

the moon is emblematic
unfailingly rising to your rapture
we plait generations when we do each others hair
semantics and simiotics of language
ours alone
moon cycle your love to a perfection
let it ameliorate your search
for yourself
vortex of emotions
lie at your feet
servant to your ebb and flow
know it
own it
make love to yourself
woman of essence

may 2019

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