the function of time and space an illusion of separation the idea that we exist without one another– impossible my heart inextricably tied and bound in beauty and devotion past this physical plane of existence– past the point of human comprehension the madness of imagination the only logic that allows sense to be …
your dark and thoughtful eyes a raging river rushing behind them– reading your thoughts unconsciously understanding the language behind your carefully chosen words. your tongue loosened and unguarded only when foreign substances give consent. you leave me breathless with your barrage of words– struggling to hold onto the smallest pieces of them. tucking them into …
the intricate curve of roads unravelling beneath me– rivers like tendrils winding to their conclusion– all laid bare above the clouds– a mysterious floating, the technology of imagination– harnessed and exploited past the point of recognition. the mediocrity of humanity surrounding– the miraculous becomes mundane– blackens the beauty encapsulating. sprawling creation down below– routines …
the sound of my boy’s laughter tumbling across the floors and ceilings through the hallway and under the door– the ease of three generations co-existing– quiet certainty of a love that has always been and will always be– from latency a hand on the belly– small kicks and a waiting game– breathless anticipation for the …
our matching postures ankles crossed, feet mirroring my yin and your yang
the worlds i’ve moved through since meeting you– gratitude does not begin to cover the debt i feel i owe– realizing the maximum of all that i am and understanding that i have yet barely scraped the surface. knowing that as i rise– you rise with me– our expansion exponential when walking together. …
the perfection of
your beauty strikes me each time
i watch you awake.
continually marveling at the splendid perfection that is.
my smile, a long-lost friend who i hadn’t realized departed, slowly backed out the door years ago, almost imperceptively. she’s beginning to reemerge along with the rest of me. i see her reflected back at me in mirrors and photographs– recognizing the joy that flows from behind her– feeling safe enough to show herself. regaining …
standing in the kitchen, a wave washes over– a gentle reminder of the beauty and certainty surrounding me. for there is little more tangible than love– and time and actions speak worlds more than flowery words and unencumbered emotion. they speak to a carefulness in thought– a measured action for the purpose of reason– for there is little …
the edges of myself 