player haiku
first, you touched my heart
i let you touch my body
you stopped touching both
first, you touched my heart
i let you touch my body
you stopped touching both
Today is November 1st and, as it often is in Seattle at this time of year it’s wet. I’ve been riding my bike almost daily since August and enjoy my ritual. I ride in my skirt so I can feel the wind on my skin (and, let’s face it, I like to look cute). I’ve…
(it began and ended with super heroes) sweetness of night cold and clear the lights of the city and the telling of stories massaging out the knots mutuality (the light is nearly at its climax now) rain-soaked honeysuckle blossoms on bare skin in the morning veneration and passion (and the burgeoning fear) “In brightest day,…
your room of starshine wonder I see you a d r i f t on a sea of buttercups floating with milky clouds. I see you lost in dewdrops your eyes following the W I N D I see you In your room of starshine wonder without walls or eyes. F r e e, r…
This Waking Life I went biking around Greenlake with my daughter this afternoon so I decided to make my bricolage there with whatever I found. The graffiti was already on the table and I love it. Love the color and the form. My rule was that everything had to come from the ground. You will…
my capacious heart (open) full moon setting at dawn my capricious heart (following) leaves swirling in cold wind my tenacious heart (wounded) embracing a chameleon sky
reading her my poetry about a man with a swagger ‘neath red flame chandeliers (and comparing notes) circular narratives about life and gypsies and making sense of men (and ourselves) a text to her lover in a moment of mischief fueled with red wine (and some flirting) “I think she’s trying to get me drunk,”…