Life is complicated, isn’t it? Recently, I was working at the front desk at work, a co-working space in Seattle. An elderly lady was sitting in stillness for almost two hours in the sunlight, her veined hands endlessly turning a brochure over and over. A half hour before closing, I decided to check on her….
![angel of the quake [or the patriarchy is crumbling]](https://kymberleedellaluce.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/01/14481-768x466.jpg)
angel of the quake she clings to his leg holding up the fractured pillars (white marble with purple veins) she clings to him looking up with such devotion (the master feeds her) she clings to his leg holding on to a crumbling world she is in the rubble now her hands bleeding seeking his eyes…
vulnerability soft folds (ripped open) revealing deep slash bound peer into darkness (infinite landscape) fractal wound binding like a river winding through a canyon he saw all worlds contained we both saw Her here. now. Ekphrastic poem inspired by the Hana Hamplová: Meditations on Paper exhibit at The Frye Art Museum. I saw it once, alone,…
like a hummingbird flitting forward and back sipping the sweetness never still never landing too fast to be captured until she flies into the glass headlong f a l l i n g in the stunned stillness hands reach out holding protecting sheltering feeding (not all hands hurt or capture)
He found this tiny black feather and gave it to me. He said he thought it was a crow feather and told me not to cast a spell with it. Ha! I told him that even if I did cast a spell, it would be good magic, it would be in service to love and…
![creation haiku [ wailing chaos]](https://kymberleedellaluce.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/10/1445487339077.jpg)
deep inside the womb deterministic chaos is ready to wail