I am the mode of coercion
I am spurring thoughts unknown
Not so sure I’m okay with this.
Want to stay, want to go…
something stirring
restless in the white space
restless in the stillness
something hot and wet.
Saturday, September 17, 2005
I
All you see is light and air
flushed sweet giggles and eyes bright.
Let not loose do I the dark despair
caged, contained, cruelly and deservingly
beat down, drug low and tortured till
it holds no grasp on me, no longer does it kill.
II
Tying up and drawing blood in one deep clean cut.
Swelling, beading, pulsing as she wets her lips, small
pink tongue gently testing, teasing, full mouth over it
nursing, sucking. Hands taking into her the extent of him.
Oh sweet thought and she is gone to shallow breaths.
All you see is light and air
flushed sweet giggles and eyes bright.
Let not loose do I the dark despair
caged, contained, cruelly and deservingly
beat down, drug low and tortured till
it holds no grasp on me, no longer does it kill.
II
Tying up and drawing blood in one deep clean cut.
Swelling, beading, pulsing as she wets her lips, small
pink tongue gently testing, teasing, full mouth over it
nursing, sucking. Hands taking into her the extent of him.
Oh sweet thought and she is gone to shallow breaths.
Tuesday, September 13, 2005
Things from my marraige
Old wounds acting up today
physical reminder of deeper things.
Broken finger
recalling crying
wedding band cutoff,
more crying
having set alone in a room so long
having been with him too long.
Knowing this even then.
Eight stitches
joint of the thumb, cut
washing dishes, the anger
(not mine)
missing his race.
The pain of severed nerves.
The pain of disbelief.
Pulled Achilles tendon
Left heel, driving
a stick anyway
other option? His truck.
The healing taking longer
The retreat just beginning.
Things from my marriage...
physical reminder of deeper things.
Broken finger
recalling crying
wedding band cutoff,
more crying
having set alone in a room so long
having been with him too long.
Knowing this even then.
Eight stitches
joint of the thumb, cut
washing dishes, the anger
(not mine)
missing his race.
The pain of severed nerves.
The pain of disbelief.
Pulled Achilles tendon
Left heel, driving
a stick anyway
other option? His truck.
The healing taking longer
The retreat just beginning.
Things from my marriage...
Sunday, September 11, 2005
Stumbled across this journal entry and became...too overwhelmed not to post it forever in my memory.
for...Skye Marie
Saturday, May 3, 2003
My sickness since the twenty-seventh has become progressively worse, and reached its height last night when I could hardly sleep for the pain in my head and the nausea in my stomach. We have only been trying for a few months, and just last month I finally learned to count the days. My body has betrayed me, thrown me into this doubt. Testing on the first was negative. This morning, Saturday, May third, there was a brief spotting and I almost wept, but still, no free flowing menstration, only the little spot. It is my hope that you, my darling child, were conceived on the sixteenth of April when I fell asleep after making love with your father, the evidence of his desire still with me. That you have traveled and transformed, my impish zygote, making my own body betray me, that this morning, it was you, my mighty blastocyst, that have implanted yourself firmly to my uteran wall. I did not want just any child. I want you, my tiny Capricorn, no larger than a lima bean, still and soon, my baby bean. Tomorrow is Sunday, and I’ll take the test again, and if it is negative, I’ll take it again in a few more days. My body has never betrayed me with such passion and ardor. And yet, I’ll bear down, just for you, my baby Rubella, in your tentative weeks of life. I can only hope you will not break my heart and leave too soon. Please wait, break my heart in your adolescence.
she didn't wait, but then I wouldn't be who I am today, would I...
for...Skye Marie
Saturday, May 3, 2003
My sickness since the twenty-seventh has become progressively worse, and reached its height last night when I could hardly sleep for the pain in my head and the nausea in my stomach. We have only been trying for a few months, and just last month I finally learned to count the days. My body has betrayed me, thrown me into this doubt. Testing on the first was negative. This morning, Saturday, May third, there was a brief spotting and I almost wept, but still, no free flowing menstration, only the little spot. It is my hope that you, my darling child, were conceived on the sixteenth of April when I fell asleep after making love with your father, the evidence of his desire still with me. That you have traveled and transformed, my impish zygote, making my own body betray me, that this morning, it was you, my mighty blastocyst, that have implanted yourself firmly to my uteran wall. I did not want just any child. I want you, my tiny Capricorn, no larger than a lima bean, still and soon, my baby bean. Tomorrow is Sunday, and I’ll take the test again, and if it is negative, I’ll take it again in a few more days. My body has never betrayed me with such passion and ardor. And yet, I’ll bear down, just for you, my baby Rubella, in your tentative weeks of life. I can only hope you will not break my heart and leave too soon. Please wait, break my heart in your adolescence.
she didn't wait, but then I wouldn't be who I am today, would I...
Almost
The sheets smelled like cigarette smoke and pot. They smelled like Frank. The scent was on his clothes, but stronger near his ear and hairline where I had breathed deep and then ran my cheek along his. He had shaved that day, his skin smooth and unmarred, just the patch on his chin and thin line across his lip remained. But I couldn’t smell the soap, only the cigarette smoke and pot. It was his scent, the one I would associate with him, with his touch and taste, with sex.
What are you doing, he had asked, just got home from….and some indistinct explanation followed. I was half asleep, my sinus hurt, and I couldn’t concentrate as usual. So I said breathless and low, come see me. He was almost timid in reply, incredulous when he said, really? Funny thing about Frank, he always kissed me goodbye then he’d promise to call and I’d ask when. And he wouldn’t always call.
And I had laughed deeply at the question he asked. Then I turn and catch his stare time after time. Funny thing, attraction, it holds great weight against age. Yes, I knew he was young, but hadn’t realized there would be almost ten years between us. His reply had been that it shouldn’t matter, age. Those words held infinite weight. Shouldn’t matter for what?
That first weekend I was very busy but he called a day early and I had sought him out in my free time but not found him. And every other day since, we’d seen each other – so far. Things were still new. And I knew right he wouldn't be the one for me, not ultimately and that we had little in common But we laughed and touched and it was what I need right then and even now perhaps. And his kiss goodbye was gentle and sweet, almost like something more, almost.
What are you doing, he had asked, just got home from….and some indistinct explanation followed. I was half asleep, my sinus hurt, and I couldn’t concentrate as usual. So I said breathless and low, come see me. He was almost timid in reply, incredulous when he said, really? Funny thing about Frank, he always kissed me goodbye then he’d promise to call and I’d ask when. And he wouldn’t always call.
And I had laughed deeply at the question he asked. Then I turn and catch his stare time after time. Funny thing, attraction, it holds great weight against age. Yes, I knew he was young, but hadn’t realized there would be almost ten years between us. His reply had been that it shouldn’t matter, age. Those words held infinite weight. Shouldn’t matter for what?
That first weekend I was very busy but he called a day early and I had sought him out in my free time but not found him. And every other day since, we’d seen each other – so far. Things were still new. And I knew right he wouldn't be the one for me, not ultimately and that we had little in common But we laughed and touched and it was what I need right then and even now perhaps. And his kiss goodbye was gentle and sweet, almost like something more, almost.
Curse of the Butterfly
We are unintentional in our desire, in our hunger for the touch and feel of human flesh and the quest for our place in a human heart. We were human once, content in chains, in the ties that bound unrequited. Still as then, when our maker calls, we come. It is one prison in trade of another.
Only now, am I restless with an understanding, a need. Driven on wrestles dreams. And he was a cool drink on a June afternoon that lay light in spirit, still untouched by the heat of summer.
The first brief touch of his fingers grazing lightly across shoulder sealed his fate and when I call this one I make? He will come.
I move on silent wings that turn in a beat, pulse high and wild, these men too sweet.
Only now, am I restless with an understanding, a need. Driven on wrestles dreams. And he was a cool drink on a June afternoon that lay light in spirit, still untouched by the heat of summer.
The first brief touch of his fingers grazing lightly across shoulder sealed his fate and when I call this one I make? He will come.
I move on silent wings that turn in a beat, pulse high and wild, these men too sweet.