I have learned that when people are determined to see me through a dark lens, they won’t be talked out of it.
I have, however, learned that it’s their lens not my truth.
That’s a good feeling.
This morning on the bus, I was running my hands through my daughter’s golden tresses and started giving her a scalp massage. As she relaxed, I said, “Mmmm…this is luxury. This is luxurious like– delicious dark chocolate, puppy breath, a spring rain, velvet on my skin, the sun kissing my shoulders at the beach, red…
perhaps his heart is too bright for your boxy, measured world perhaps his wonder isn’t brandable in your tight space, rat race bullies come and bullies go (they tend to find each other) love remains truth remains (free the boxes)
She is emerging again. She has tried many times only to be drowned out by the bullies. She has something to say, this one. She sees right through all the hypocrisy to the core–the essence. She has no tolerance for the pretending that goes on and on and on it makes her feel scared and…
Yesterday, I wrote a short story for fun based on some words my friends gave me. In response, I received this email from an acquaintance: There have been a very few Matriarchal societies and none that were much above Hunter/gather stage in development. This is not to say that Matriarchy stunts development at all but…
Blind contour infused with memory and a Scorpio moon.
His thunderous laughter and gentle touch. The washing of her feet and tears so easily flowing. Brilliant mind dimpled grin buoyant step (and the warming of my hands). Noble heart and furrowed brow lover of words (and such a lover of me). Flowers and dark chocolate and the washing of dishes. Moments and moments of…