the other half of what i know

is the right thing

it is the memory of love

a forever bridge

that begins in a red sky morning

and travels its course

meeting darkness

and moonglow by turns

and with all the hues

of its map and sky and hours

it is moving forward

carrying what matters…

leaving behind what should no longer

but as well inside

right there

below the breastbone

wherein, should someone hit you

in love or violence

commences the stars

girl walking

again in Salisbury

warm

traffic

and flow

i can let him go now

he will no longer haunt me

and he called me to him some nights ago

did to me what he had done before

it felt good as it had before

and when he was done with that secret part of me

he pulled me to him

and we slept

and he was gentle as he had not been before

or perhaps only once

and there was only the two of us

in his dark, sunken room

no voices, nor ghosts

other than our own

he saw me, felt me, loved me, knew me

and in the following daylight, i reached out to him

and he did not respond to me

so, now i can let go his sorcery

his breath and body and beauty

render it all nothing more or less

than sweet, ruinous memory

*title quote borrowed from michelle boisseau

tonight i am

warming to the occasion

feeling the moves vine

and build up

inside me

needing someone to feel me

my honey on the side

my stories, my heat

at the center

this man

how he moves me

inhabits me

confounds me

loves my body

and finds peace within me

the way he looks into me

touches me

and just

makes the world go away from me

too warm

but it feels good

want to stretch out into this night

before Spring

the teasing warm rain of it

that i could smell even before it let loose from the sky

want to stretch out in his bed

let him run his hand through my hair

to my innermost heat

and pull that stretch of something good

only just begun

i’m just not that into you

though you are beautiful

and strong

and turn me inside out

though the butterflies

they congregate

held captive

by your heady, petrichorian scent

though your mind is fine and inquisitive

though your heart is deep

and full of wonder

though you say you are into me

because his story

(put it together)

sets the woman to the side

and this woman refuses to be repeated

again

today i am

sort of watching the game:

b’more 24, miami 0

drinking scotch

feeling my walk and workout

and wondering what comes next

message from a man

butterflies

a new world

shimmering at my edges

the light of it

catching my glitter,

my promise

b’more won

tonight i am

wavy

feeling the breath of him

woven by the heat the night the undertow music

wanting a bar cherry and

thinking that all journeys lead

to this:

wanting to be sucked under again