i want a verb

when we're on different sides of the globe,

i thought we'd keep our veins tangled like a pair of mic cables,

and if there ain't enough slack to reach,

then we'll solder them together

and across oceans they'd stretch.

with all my heart. just sayin.

goodnight for goodbye, good evening for hello.

when these roots rot and flowers fade to dust, our heartfelt speaks will still be seeded deep down in my earth. i'll be across an ocean then.

in the clay, silhouettes had cast shadows away from the heavens, among the ants that seized the red of my shoe.

your laugh, always recognizable, faded in the open space.

overexposure.

i'll run through it again, breathing: in in out, in in out. when the air is cold sometimes it hurts to breathe this heavy. we need to fly kites in the tall grass there. with the monarch and pink blur.

this funk we're all in, are feels we've felt before. this dance between blooming and dying, year after year. "this is the garden: colours come and go."

but apathy still scares me.

noapte buna.

that's not my name.

unzip me to find that my insides are fragranced dioxazine purple and yellow ocher. my complexion turned porcelain as my sun kisses fade, traced with the smoke of cooler cities sunken into my skin.

our words spilt into the recycled air over scratched compact discs: memory music we all reasoned listening. blue eyes reflecting in my rearview; a gaze perpetuated over an intimate and casual secret. nothing awkward, we all want more.

i really liked charleston.

like the words of a man who's spent a little too much time alone

this cold air pirouetting in my lungs is me breathing for the first time.  my goosebuds and tastebumps love peppermint chocolate and shivers all the same. and i am surprisingly unfazed.  i am alone but very not lonely. and these glorious feels on my skin make my heart warm. 

tomorrow and for the rest of these days, it feels good to be free.  

lake ella and autumn and boots. 

crevices in cobblestone

the mountains are heads, valleys are creviced backs, caves are mouths and wombs, rivers are veins, water is blood and sweat, swamps are hearts, trees are hair, rocks are bones. earth has a soul.  

the words i need and read are God breathed. 

¿te recuerdas esta lugar, esta momento en tiempo? ¡todas estaban simples!

discernment

white as snow

(like these movements & placements, words & tears.)

i am thankful for the pains that get me to right places.

there is no turning back now.

from crimson stains.

carolina southern swellings

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in

my heart)i am never without it(anywhere

i go you go, my dear; and whatever is done

by only me is your doing, my darling)

i fear

no fate(for you are my fate, my sweet) i want

no world(for beautiful you are my world, my true)

and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant

and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows

(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud

and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows

higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)

and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

-ee cummings

part of me already knows, and i'm too scared to believe, because it's not where i'm headed, or whom i'm heading somewhere with.

someday i'll be reading that.  and it's quite the double standard that i am the one lacking so much patience.

on the way home from savannah, my skin feels were bubbles of anxiety until i stopped and yelled, then laughed at the fact that my voice finally stretched over the whirs of ninety five and the murmurs of my heart. catharsis.

optimism: 24exp is almost up and running!

fluttering

i've learned i needed time to dry off my wings.

nada.

pues estoy convencido de que ni la muerte ni la vida, ni los ángeles ni los demonios, ni lo presente ni lo por venir, ni los poderes, ni lo alto ni lo profundo, ni cosa alguna en toda la creación, podrá apartarnos del amor que Dios nos ha manifestado en Cristo Jesús nuestro Señor.

no hands are half as gentle or firm as they'd like to be

thank god you see me the way you do, strange as you are to me

the time we drove all night.

(columbia, south carolina) 

(mississippi riverside from the french market, bourbon street: new orleans, LA)

my heart is full of missings of us driving across the states.

these are your and your and your colors i saw in my brainwaves. 

i'd fill up my lungs with pigments as bright as these.

to chase

alligator point beach, florida

the sun keeps shining oh so brightly, even when the waves crash in on me.

it never fails.

sure tomorrow will come.

i have not become a casualty of the endless succession of unmet expectations (which are the result of settling.) 

i will find myself within the frame of a painting that has been written and painted and already seen.

from katharos, 'pure'

tlaquepaque, mexico.  march 10th, 2009

i once met a man and asked him if it were true that when you get older, you become wiser.  he said that the only answer was to get older.  looking back to when i was a kid, i realize that my ignorance was a virtue.  i saw the world in colors and shapes.  now my nerves keep me awake at night.  i think about the future and what i want to do with my life.  i asked that same man if he had any advice for me. he told me to quit living and start breathing.  "look around at the life you lead.  listen to the wind and the trees.  take time to smell the ocean breeze and sleep on the beach."  he said that the beauty of this world was in its complexity and that our lives for the most part are ordinary.  he told me to never stop painting, but mostly, never stop creating.  "you're as free as your mind will let you be.  so, what's holding you back?" he asked, "fear or laziness??" 

yesterday i was both a child and an adult.  

i stretched my fingertips to the sunshine and learned to open and extend all my womanly curves and to push and pull against another human form. i love yoga.  i swayed and rocked and soaked in the wake and waves in my kayak.  i got kissed by the sun.  i swung on the swings and closed my eyes and i was back in elementary school, swinging through the warm crowded noisy air.  i drank.  i danced.  i twirled.  i met, spoke, and was flattered.  above all, i felt so incredibly independent.  i am becoming okay in all this change.  becoming.  my life currently stares at a reflection so extraordinarily opposite of what it saw six months ago.  a year ago even, when my honest happiness was found somewhere now obsolete.  i am diving into my convictions.  i am learning to let go. and here is my process, my path, my catharsis.  so it goes.