supernova

the answer is now yes.

take to the sky

.self portrait.

my favorite secret

he wandered into my life
unannounced
bearded face and eyes like rain clouds
with a tiny touch of chocolate

his hands felt like
home
that kind of container that possesses
every book you've ever read twice over
comfort layered with stories of his own
and mine

meeting

devising its own legend

i'm convinced this wasn't our first affair
meeting once before secretly on a streams boundary
many breaths and incarnations past

he looked at me like i look at me
i saw him as he saw me in him
the edge of nothing and its all teetering
causing chaos to the original choice

for hours we witnessed each other leave
and come back and leave again

i'd come and come and never leave;
if it were up to me
but as the stars cleared the vog
his heirs weighed heavy
his mind prolapsed and taken

there was nothing to be done
he was already gone

again

j'aime

. annoyingly righteous
. passionate
. incredibly kind
. giving (sometimes too much)
. full of fantastically loud laughter
. a nervous wreck (at times)
. confidently sexual (but picky as hell)
. compassionate yet mistrusting
. loving
. analytical (fuck)
. very forgiving (and learning to forgive myself)
. emotional and visual
. naturally affectionate
. charming but at times too quiet
. in love with charlie (the cat, of course)
. selfish
. a stormy peacemaker
. immature, yet wise
. (un)comfortably alive
. wishes love on everyone
. desires deep connections (i tend to discard anything superficial)
. flexible but spoiled
. intensely loyal
. fears rejection
. powerful
. committed (and at times indecisive)
. super laid back about most things, yet uptight and tense about others.
. very grateful
. thrifty
. worldly
. spiritual
. minimalistic
. socially independent
. trying to be more reliable
. is
. has strange body image issues
. terribly sincere
. insecure yet strong
. stupidly vain
. jealous (and don't want to be)
. optimistic
. open
. (fill in the blank)
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

blue

this morning, after getting gabriel onto the bus
i decided to wait on coffee and welcome the bed a bit longer.
i've been feeling this intense internal struggle for the past few weeks
(the winters often do this to me, but this is a very different kind of conflict)
its been reflecting in my life in very odd and uncomfortable ways.
a lot of the discomfort is this knowing i am not where i belong.
of course, i accept this space as being part of the process in getting to where i'd like to be
or know to be, but this isn't home for me. not even close.

i suppose its like a vacation, and my flight home keeps getting delayed.
it's something like that, anyway.

so, i placed my head back onto my pillow and closed my eyes.
still, sleep did not pervade. rather insights began to stir and surface.

i saw all of this wonderful greenery.
i was wearing a sarong.
my feet were bare.
and the sun was so strong, yet forgiving and delicate.
there were all of these soft eyes, connected to all of these compassionate humans.
and there was this one, very elderly woman with blue eyes.
not the kind of blue you are born with, but rather the kind of blue you die with.
those muted glass encasements containing a life that welcomes its transition.
her skin was wrinkled so beautifully it looked almost shaped and casted.
she spoke of nothing, but her eyes invaded me willingly.
and in her gaze i saw a message.
i'm still trying to piece the ends of her silent proverb:

but she asked for me to let go of my thought entirely,
abandon what i've been given.
to set all of it down.
that it no longer serves me in this new form.
yet, remain open. to think less and listen more.

but more importantly, that i am currently where i'm supposed to be.
that life, for the most part, is a continuous process of getting used to things we had not expected.