I try to prepare myself for loneliness.
Balm my skin with empty air,
a bed without touches,
fingers only finding themselves.
It flows over me, a frozen molten thing
There is no answering jump of electricity
no spark beneath my skin,
though memory leaves echos there.
Encase my heart in this,
that the electric echos will be averted
and the stillness deadened,
the waves of it averted
to leave other shoes aching in the stillness.
Gentle and close my eyes,
for hey are heavy and seek out
the hotness inside me from which they spill
into cheeks like voids,
like falling past sensitive event horizons
past my lashes.
No inch of me can forget, and so,
none of me is stilled.

7/4/2015

USA
I love what this could be.

What it is pisses me off.

So I fight like hell to move us towards the vision of what this could be.

Maybe we’ll never get there. Maybe we’ve done too much harm.

But I’m still fighting.

May your fight(s) for freedom and equality be more successful than the reality we have today.

Prayer (II)

Thank you God for making me a queer femme. 
Thank you for the creation of women.
Thank you for the creation of feminine people, of all genders.
Thank you for the creation of hair, of breath, of heart beats;
Of touch, of taste, of smell;
Of smoothness and of curves, of things soft and things rough.
Thank you for the depth of sensory experiences you have blessed me with;
For the lessons I’ve learned;
For the storms and the joy.
Thank you for change, especially those we make with our own hands.
Thank you God for making me and us all wonderfully 
In all our diverse forms.

AMEN

1/3/15

I've let you pull
out of my gravity
to another star's orbit
exo-planet of an ex-lover
so distant I can only see you
by launching out my satellites
beyond my sight, headed to stars
beyond  my reach, electronic signals
tethering tight before they fade to static.

4/2/2015

I've got an upper lip of granite
all mined out, firm but crumbling
underneath. The strength of Samson
only feminine and sleek, but my
tresses have recently been reaped.

These pretty little things we call strength
the little weaknesses we can't help but share
they tie us out and let us down to the things
we can not bare.

4/1/2015

my legs stretch out
into infinity
as I try to untangle
the kinks in the tendons
that lie invisible
beneath the surfaces,
their crimps and frizzles
unseen, but constantly felt.

Warning: Restraint

I know what it is to have a knee in my back

Between my shoulder blades,

“Just for a minute.” 

I don’t give a flying fuck

How you justify it

With culture.

Familial culture doesn’t justify 

Holding a terrified, fight or flight driven

Child (or adult or adult I know but my body remember it

In a child’s body with a child’s heart and a child’s

Access to information about what this was)

Down, face in the carpet until (I)

They stop screaming,

A knee between shoulder blades pressing down

Arms held immobile and straining

Legs pinned by your/his feet.

Fuck. You.