Inhabiting Woman

Inhabiting Woman

Maybe I should create

a map of my body;

points of interest,

places you must let it rest on this journey,

how to enter gently

then navigate my often swift exit,

the sites to discover

if you wish to taste it.

The shape shifting politics

and picnic spots of pleasure earned

with plot points to measure the distance

between where you are and where I return.

We’re both still learning the history of this sacred ground,

how to light up every speck of dirt,

the scale played by her buried treasure sounds.

This travel guide is as much yours

as it is mine,

tourists of the divine feminine

contouring her design.

Smoke The Peace Pipe

Smoke The Peace Pipe

You have never truly held yourself

until every part is loved as truth;

the overwhelmed, the undernourished, the misaligned,

you are always unfinished business.

So kiss each with equal pleasure,

lips better spent on self affection

than speaking of self loathing.

Welcome home each particle of your being that never really left

but was silenced by the unenlightened mind.

We, wild spirits, being all at once in this one life time,

found here like some long lost siblings, my everything alive.

X Marks The Spot

X Marks The Spot

The seats we sat on,

mine precariously, cross-legged but not comfortably,

balancing the weight of something both new and nostalgic,

the way you took off your denim jacket,

the way you fidget with your wristbands out of habit.

The cups we drank from,

yours plastic, mine ceramic.

I think they sensed the flush from our skin

when the ice in yours melted,

no attention paid to how they tasted.

We all knew, me and you didn’t show up for the coffee.

The ground we walked on,

mindless pacing yet purposeful.

Were our steps in time,

following the trail of crumbs through our past lives?

I’ll mark each stop with a cross,

treasuring the map that sends us round and round in buried circles.

Vigil #2

Vigil #2

I am still not accustomed

to being wanted for my company,

so used to hosting men

in my bed and this body,

the universe expanding

as somehow my space becomes erased.

To be asked what brings me pleasure

should be so everyday.

I may not be convinced of my beauty yet

but I can believe that I am safe,

even as my deepening breath

begs for armour

or out of habit, sleep hesitates,

both waiting up for the decision my heart makes

to trust the hands that hold me.

You Needed To Hear This

You Needed To Hear This

Enough now,

lay down the weight which you carry,

nobody is owed the heaviness of your soul

and there are other ways to find justice

without holding on to the hard places.

Enough now,

this burden of proof doesn’t belong

to the heart that knows the truth,

whose body shattered into pieces

reflecting someone else’s shame.

Enough now,

name what hurts and let it be,

these wounds may be deep

but do not silence their screaming,

they were never the enemy.

Enough now,

who said you have to do this alone,

healing comes collectively, like a universal truth

and love, it’s time to come home.

You’ve been gone long enough.