it's been a while
wow, it certainly has been a while since I've worked on my live journal. well, i'm back safe to say. and a lot has happened to me since, um...yeah, summer. Here's a poem that reflects my life right now. It's not bad, it's not good...it just is...
"Your hands are a gift unlooked for, two trembling birds searching for a sky in my skin, finding it like North in their flight toward whatever home we are always driven to seek. And my heart aches to be an open cage, to be pried wide apart for you to see, it’s hollow enough inside for a flock of your fingers to reside forever against the delicate burning flower of my unrelentless heart.
One night, I looked into the lake of your eyes, surprised by the size of my own startled sighs. I realized that it’s not pain or remorse I carry, it’s a force beyond what I can restrain. I try to contain it with 9-to-5 and organize, I do my dishes instead of fantasize, I cook and clean and file and sweep just to keep this beast inside me asleep because this passion that resides has already devoured innocence once. I tried to contain it, silence its howls, but your hands have found the key to its cage, I can feel it awaken, killing this woman who has killed her rage by trying to forget that my pulse once lived at the base of my throat; that a glance across the room once soaked the inside of my thighs, forgot exactly which muscles in the small of my back rise to make my hips meet the night; the beast is hungry, and impatient, this is the animal inside they see when they say, “you are sexy,” not beautiful, but sexy, they see just the barest hint of the smoking jungle of the heart of my darkness, and no intrepid explorer has planted their mouth at the tree of my spine, has not scaled the mountains of my breasts to leave behind some sign, this country is deadly to the unready, but this not what I came here to say.
I came to say, thank you for showing me the way. With your hands, and the gardens of your eyes. And for however short a moment, rest your wings, in these arms, which will never seek to hold you down." Boullaine
So very true right now...Sigh
"Your hands are a gift unlooked for, two trembling birds searching for a sky in my skin, finding it like North in their flight toward whatever home we are always driven to seek. And my heart aches to be an open cage, to be pried wide apart for you to see, it’s hollow enough inside for a flock of your fingers to reside forever against the delicate burning flower of my unrelentless heart.
One night, I looked into the lake of your eyes, surprised by the size of my own startled sighs. I realized that it’s not pain or remorse I carry, it’s a force beyond what I can restrain. I try to contain it with 9-to-5 and organize, I do my dishes instead of fantasize, I cook and clean and file and sweep just to keep this beast inside me asleep because this passion that resides has already devoured innocence once. I tried to contain it, silence its howls, but your hands have found the key to its cage, I can feel it awaken, killing this woman who has killed her rage by trying to forget that my pulse once lived at the base of my throat; that a glance across the room once soaked the inside of my thighs, forgot exactly which muscles in the small of my back rise to make my hips meet the night; the beast is hungry, and impatient, this is the animal inside they see when they say, “you are sexy,” not beautiful, but sexy, they see just the barest hint of the smoking jungle of the heart of my darkness, and no intrepid explorer has planted their mouth at the tree of my spine, has not scaled the mountains of my breasts to leave behind some sign, this country is deadly to the unready, but this not what I came here to say.
I came to say, thank you for showing me the way. With your hands, and the gardens of your eyes. And for however short a moment, rest your wings, in these arms, which will never seek to hold you down." Boullaine
So very true right now...Sigh