Bones are buried in the earth,
but the house is on fire
and children run screaming into the void.
The flimsy handle of a plastic spoon
can't dig you out of this enigma,
threshold dripping like an overripe fruit.
Chaos surfing the waves of a thousand ancient tomorrows,
eyes propped open with toothpick stability,
no requiem for this mad, insidious night.
The whisper of my heart comes roaring
out of ripped open throat chakra,
amplified by moldavite mysteries.
Passivity feeds Desire,
Desire fuels Passion,
Passion wants to dance wildly,
ecstatically chanting its own name
in a field of bemused sunflowers.
Passion wants to strip naked,
licking the flame of its own existence
humming a slowed down version of its favorite song.
Passion wants to lock eyes
at the star crushing point of orgasm
and purrrrrrrr in blissful abandon.
The corners of the universe bow down
marking the pages
of places
people
lost teeth
wrong turns
first kisses
bellyaches
that weave the intricate fabric of our being -
simple reminders of our all consuming smallness.
Swirling inside our triple spheres
playful interactions,
engaging distractions,
divine invitations to tea.
The cells of this body cannot sustain the old and weary.
Skeleton Woman scrambles to find shelter
inside of changing skin.
Held fast by the raging ebb and flow of infinite curiosity,
of the epic journey of a single breath,
as it flows in and out of consciousness.
Soul scream breaks free from weathered lips,
doubt disintegrates in the emptiness of the moon,
sung down by a circle of weird sisters.
This fear lodged within every inch of our captive bodies
heating our blood to the point of boiling,
fights its way to compassionate ears.
The wisdom of 222 grandmothers
muffled and lost behind double paned windows
and triple locked doors.
rhuummm arrtttaaaateee naaanohaaaai
Open the fucking door!!!
