you aren’t seeing

i am  morphing, molting…
you see the chrysalis cracking..
you can not see the wings…
they will be new to you.

(despite the preliminary entomology—
I am without taxonomy).

 If you wait… if you’re as patient with me

as I have been with you…


You will find—
unveiled 
—the rare pattern—
the shapes and colors
you’ve been seeking so long

so long

to pollinate your garden.

we want the same thing

I want a tribe. I want infants on hips, toddlers around ankles, teens bickering in hallways —-, Honored Matriarchs, Endearing Grandfathers and Wisened Uncles extending outwards in all directions —- a collective culture of our unique traditions and values —- decades of eating the same meals at the same tables. I’ve had no rest. I’ve traveled so far… so long…

Where…where is acceptance? Where is the starting place?

Why can’t we build the first primitive shelters together?

Am I so different?

"I’d rather have my heart broken
than have to continue as I am;
unwanted, unloved, untouched….
alone."

— (via graciouswords)

"Open your windows
and listen to the night bleed
your name from my mouth."

— Peregrine (via youreyesblazeout)

I can not sleep so full of you—
I have wiped you from my eyes
a dozen times
and there
I brush away your lips
and still they rest on mine—
I can not sleep so full of you—
with my body so full of daybreak.

"It’s not the thing that you do dear, it’s thing that you leave undone, that will bring a bit of heartache, at the setting of the sun."

— Someone else’s grandmother.

Let’s speak directly

You are waves around my ankles—
like Botticelli birthed Venus, I am delivered to you
time and again.
Rhythmic as breath.

The water grasps while retreating,
reaching only as it withdraws..
The gentle suck and swell of tides.

How can you love the sun?
How can you love the sun and not
the hot, red, heat of a lesser body?

I just walked over my own cyber grave.

shivers

How many times
did we stand between the door
and midnight,
exhaling pale ringlets
into the street light—

Two summer may flies
floated down from the black—
we barely noticed them.

fragmenting
fragmen
            ting

frag
   menting

entropy

across the world…
lights flicker out.

"Not many things in life are as simple and earnestly made as a good kitchen table."

this is the sound—
  the marching feet stepping out the time,
 the decades in which
  our nation fell in on itself,
 explosively folded into decline—
of the drumbeat.

Nothing ruins a game like an existential crisis.  Thanks Philosophy majors for sharing!

"Discovery consists in seeing what everybody has seen and thinking what nobody has thought."

— Albert von Szent-Gyorgyi (1898-1986) Hungarian Biochemist 1937 Nobel Prize for Physiology

Make it last
Wear it out
Make it do
Or do without.