Poetry
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The Rose
I wrote this poem for the beautiful father of my children, today. I wrote it on a white sheet of paper, using a fine tip pink pen and I left it beside a jar of soft pink roses on the… Continue reading
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Flow
I will simply begin. And flow until the river ends. Continue reading
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Dark Mistress
Oh, fear, my dark mistress sweet. Play me into your arms of fright. Chill me with crooked fingers. Undress my calm, tempt me into hiding: I will rise. And you will find the truth of me has no room inside… Continue reading
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Open Rose
These hours of twilight. How soft they have been, like rain on a dusty summer road. Here I am. A woman, at last. Home in the truth of this soft heart of mine. A rose of musk in bloom this… Continue reading
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Beautiful
This life. It is not what they have shown it to be. The cold stone walls, the repeating days in chains of grey. This life is the art I hold in my own hands. The art of my body as… Continue reading
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And They Wait
And they wait for something more. And they sip cold tea. And they laugh with sad eyes. And they speak with serious voices. And they hide the soft pieces of their hearts. And they wait. And they wait. And they… Continue reading
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Emerald Sweet
I breathe but I can’t feel you. I soften but creation does not flow. Am I stuck? Or do I just think I am stuck because I am not flying through raw wisps of forestland? It is my choice to… Continue reading
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Eternal Woman
This breath that gathers beneath the wings of the eternal woman. It is life. It is fresh orange summer, beyond form. Sisters beyond time, we fall and we fly into the arms of each other with grace. Beautiful women. We… Continue reading
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Grateful
I’m grateful for beautiful people who shine a light for those wandering the dark. I’m grateful for those wandering the dark. Grateful they are survivors: that they may not know they have won, yet, but they have. And they will… Continue reading