The cycles
They come and come and come each month and this one feels familiar to the last one.
The comfortable kind.
The sweet warm kind
The present kind,
The I know I am alive kind.
I do not fear the walk up to my aliveness.
The thought, a sort of lochness,
But each step there’s lightness
As the bright face of the moon pulls up my water to the ite-ness.

Love,

Cream sugar butter honey grapes jam spreaders

I had the most vivid dream. I saw the most revealing scene
In one month
A grammar book,
Specs
And a note
Cheeks pressed
And comfort

And knowing.

Reggae pops dancing his way to Xanadu

Hey reggae pops,
We didn’t really know each other except that we have nodded and smiled because, you know, we did know each other in that kind of way that all dancing souls do.
And I was.

A reality show

Create space

Dance for the sun.

This is the thought. I should just go for everything.

I am yoga

20150203-173349.jpg

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s