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❝ Once upon a time, I loved you. Once upon a future, I will love you again.
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❝ I am full of tenderness the way a cloud is full of rain
And I am full of joy the way a flower is full of sun Ready to spill Ready to grow. ❞ ❝ with tenderness i touch trembling the soft round of your cheek. trace the fine curve of sunlight on skin silken and sweet impressionable and impressing a simmer of sensation. a sacred offering your neck bowed my hand cradled. ❞ — a prayer answered
❝ Lately, the dream’s changed. It’s early morning. The sun hasn’t risen yet, but the sky’s the colour of cherry blossoms, pale and a little pink, a little blue. The air is sweet. The birds are singing. In the dream, I’m surrounded by trees, all new-touched green. The grass is soft under my bare feet. Somebody’s laughing, out of sight but approaching. I turn to greet them, already smiling. I hold out my hand. It’s clasped warmly. I’m not home yet, but I’m on my way. I know I’ll get there soon. ❞ --a companion piece to winter
❝ There’s this dream I keep having. Maybe it’s more of a nightmare, but I don’t wake screaming from it.
In the dream, I’m standing outside my house. It’s winter. The world is blue, the snow is high. The lights are all on, glowing warm yellow. Music spills faint from behind the glass. There’s no door. I stand there, looking in. Nobody looks back at me, but they know I’m there. ❞ ❝ there’s a phrase in my head and it goes like this do you love me do you love me do you love me do you love me i am full up of wanting right to the brim overflowing, overcome, overwrought, and undone my cup runneth over and i can't hold it back always and forever and again and again i suffer the constant refrain do you love me do you love me do you love me do you love me sometimes, faint and hollow and hallowing, i hear yes, i love you, yes, you are loved, yes, love, yes, love, yes ❞
❝ there are butterflies flying around a mountain long, long gone the moon is a dead, empty thing—still beautiful, still shining and i will go on i will be f i n e. ❞ —i wrote this a long time ago, but i still feel fondly about it
(which i think is its own poetry, in a way) ❝ Once upon a time there was a girl who lived in a mirror and she loved, she loved, she loved--
Once upon a time there was a boy who lived in the woods and he lost, he lost, he lost-- Once upon a time-- Once there was-- A boy-- A girl-- Lost, loved, lost, loved, lo-- Once— ❞ ❝ i am taking myself by the hand
i am cupping my own face gentle in my palms i am telling myself, soft and solemn ‘we are going to be alright’ i am wiping away my own tears salt against my thumbs and i am reminding myself 'we are going to be alright’ i am taking myself in arm and i am looking at the moon, the stars, the water and waves the cycle, the dancing, the swaying, shifting, ever-changing the light reflected, refracted, dead but shining still and i am holding myself tight 'we are going to be alright’ it’s a promise, it’s a truth, it’s a hope that hurts but i am cradling my heart in my chest broken and aching and beating still 'we are going to be alright’ ❞ ❝ the trees are talking
i hear them on windless mornings before even the birds are singing. they whisper to each other in their slow and ancient voices-- (i hold my breath, strain my ears, hope to decipher their intricacies their soft susurration their slow sweeping symphonies) —of sun and soil and slumber of secrets and sorrows of storms and solemn sighs. the trees are talking l i s t e n. ❞ |
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