bhikhuni
my words mirror my journey, long jaunts of wandering prose peppered with poems i find comfort in reading again and again, the word ‘you’ no longer carries with it any sort of meaning or association and this truly is a first for me, even between moves and deep in ‘delia i had a face-smile high mouthcorners revealing silent laughter 12 spirits one for each hour on my watch i am yang trying to craft yin out of my darkblack halfcircle, i suppose i need femininity (femiyinity? i crack myself up) to balance my manics and high/lows. sounds like a poor excuse but workplace demands require i find it external, yang is leadership when you wear boots for better or for worse, it’s just tradition. bhikkhuni give me something to write about, i worry about my sanity and the whyI’mAlive’s when i don’t, no poem today.