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All day I want to call you
Now I feel like I’m suffocating
How tender thoughts of our afternoon loving making
Turn to this I don’t understand.

It can be difficult to make lunch some days.
I think of the pan filled with
sweet potatoes, onions, broccoli and black beans.
The kitchen door open
you glassing the hills for wild life
Me taking a break from school work
The turkey from a block over gobbling so loud
and we’d gobble back
How often, while lunch was cooking, we’d close the door
make love
against the counter or the wall.
You’d smoke cigarettes in that blue
anywhere chair, that my mom gave me,on the back porch
or sit in the kitchen telling me about taxidermy or
statistics or I’d go on about what I was learning about internet porn addiction.
Oh, our conversations…

I have projected so many of my insecurities on you that I fear
we won’t recover or I won’t be forgiven
And I miss you

Moments ago I was on my knees
in gratitude for this opportunity to feel
So deeply in my body for another
Seeing the gift in these feelings
knowing all the things I hang on you
were never yours to own

Relief washes over
following the last wave
of extremes.
And there is no need to be forgiven

 

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There are little reminders everywhere
Of my longing for you
Half written letters
and emails
poems confessing
that I could never leave you.
I want with every part of me
for you to be the one
I wake up with
and return to
Explore the unknown spaces
in nature
and life
….
My life is better for you
and in this I must find
enough
Amongst the photographs
and stories
And in this longing
that began
before I new your name
and may last until
my grave
…..
Enough in this longing
that I am alive
in body and form
and I ache with such
beauty
being touched by life
and being so graced
to be touched by you.

I want
with such force
to hold again
the mystery
that is you
In detail
and
In skin
To penetrate the rules
and this longing
once again
So I can remember
it all
before
I’m forced to forget.

There is something so liberating
To the body… in admitting
such penetrating longing…
that isn’t about
sex
But about being held
in love
by someone that loves you and
recognizes you.
It’s as if admitting it can
call it forth
in perfect form.
The body’s journey seems to be
independent of the mind and
more a mystery than any intellectual
puzzle.
I am learning to have a much different
experience of life in being
more aware of the body’s journey
and more supportive.
I feel lately that it is my job
to honor
and support
my body’s journey and process
with love
and not judgement
and it calls for a
new understanding of
Other’s
ways thru life.

I want to tell you about the storm
That took him away
But the storm is over and
I’m left reeling while he sits
on the other side of town.
There is magic in both
your absence and
your presence but not in
my force upon our friendship.
There was a magic
we held together
before your hand so firmly fit around mine.
I knew my name then
and I heard your heart.
I run now to the rivers to cleanse myself of you
or so I think
I go to the Santa Fe river with offerings for Oshun and your name
wrapped around a rock I lodge directly in the stream
I go to the Pecos River to pray, tossing offerings and listening
I go to the arroyo, so dry, and sit beneath the bridge.  Calling the names of deities
I take a piece of paper that belonged to you crumple it in the dry river bed.
How foolish I am… when what I am trying to cleanse me of is me…..
My feelings, my depth, my beauty…
I reach into myself
My brothers and sisters surround me
And I bind myself to Me and my God
I’ve nothing to rid myself of anymore.
Only the River like the Wind to rush in.

You drove from Texas to rediscover me

and return home to your clan

I drove to Texas to explore my love for you and to meet your family.

You drove from Texas to move me into our new home.

I followed your truck filled with furniture and my love for you.

I need to remember the chain of events so a beautiful relationship can end in reverence.

So it can be enough to have loved for those days and not the ones that follow.

We made love in the wildest of places

Played music and sang.  I began to learn the mandolin….

I felt beautiful and intelligent and you constantly surprised me

Life far exceeded my expectations.

We tried to make a baby and it was too soon.

Then the storm came… and until a week ago I had no knowing of who I am

I struggle with my want for you the more that I can not have

We make phone dates and wrestle with the feelings that follow

I need to remember the chain of events so a beautiful relationship can end in reverence.

So it can be enough to have loved for those days and not the ones that follow.

We made love in the wildest of places

And you held my hand.

I told you everything…..

 

 

If I had found today that

I was pregnant

I wondered who it was I would tell

First

Would I wait for tomorrow

Could I? To tell you…

Amongst pages of Adrien Rich simply

pass the time until

then

I found out today … I have

spaces

waiting for you to fill

Pages of desert landscape

Amongst cornbread baking and the smells of coffee

I dream of a single Eagle feather in my hand and

Ask you for directions to an ancient sea

Simply invite tomorrow

So you

can tell me what it is

Today

That you found

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