the edges of myself

words, words, words

Revealing myself fully– pulling back the

curtain– surreptitiously pulled tight

so many years ago– the reasons scattered

around amidst the dust bunnies and dead flies.

here i am.

this is me.

a little silly, perhaps.  and maybe

overzealous at times–

but who could have it any other way?

I wonder is it who we are– or

that we are?  that draws in love?

the willingness?


You make me want to dance across my kitchen–

and why the hell not?

A freedom in my lines and circles

the overwhelming need to move.

It is my kitchen after all– and

kitchens cry for dance– everywhere does…

“Please, fill me with joy,” the spaces that

surround me say…

Can do, my friends, can do.

Will do.

Here’s a shot of joy, courtesy of my body–

coming right up.


I don’t want to consume you anymore–

It feels better to step back and track

my desire–

As if carefully measured instruments assist me–

their lines and graphs confirm what needs

no confirmation.

That this smile that spreads across

my face– is rooted in a devotion that is

unspeakable, unquestionable.

And time and space are all the measure needed.

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