Monday, July 20, 2015

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.

Saturday, July 4, 2015


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.