After that meeting, there is longing, a slow, pulsing ache of wonder.

The two feelings are not dissimilar, two flavors of possibility.

Between them, over coffee, two hours of irrepressible smiles, furtive glances, laughter, revelation, gazing into each other’s eyes, joy, and the undeniable feeling that a door has opened to a new world, and I have walked into it and into you, and I will never leave.

When I THINK

of what I

KNEW for SURE

when I was Twenty-Three?

about the WORLD and ME?

It’s PREtty F-ING clear

that I was WROOONG!

So

bloody

wrong

about EVerything,

but I was

FEARless.

and everybody turns to see

what’s happening

what’s wrong with me.

I smile

and thank them kindly for their words of comfort.

But their words don’t really comfort me.

I need more.

I want more than words.

Sticks and stones may break your bones,

but names will never hurt me.

or heal me.

or help me.

Please…

Please heal me.

Please help me.

In the foot of one early spring’s morning, I planted warmth, through strawberry and rhubarb, in my neighborhood knowing that the crust of this summer shines golden light. Luxuriate, sweetly, the first has pie.

HA!

We met 

and dined 

and laughed 

and drank a bit too much 

and went back to my place 

and listened to amazing music 

and she hit on me, 

so I kissed her back, 

and we rolled around, 

and the energy between us was incredible, 

but she didn’t feel it. 

She couldn’t feel it. 

It was there. 

She just. 

Couldn’t. 

Feel. 

It.

I am so sensitive.

Heart.

Should our emotions be the master of reason?

Should logic be the master of heart?

Is the goal to seek balance between the two?

Is intuition a function of emotion? or is it the master of both reason and emotion?

Logic is a tool of the mind, and emotions are a sort of sense, a sense that is always present, but dulled by overexposure to our own feelings and to those we see in print, online, and on the tube or screen.

We are so busy that our own emotions are just reactions to the stresses of the world around us, but they should be our guides to and in loving relationships with partners, friends, and family.

Of course, it is reason that tells me this.

What of intuition?

but somehow soldiering on with the day-to-day, 

smiling, 

saying my “pleases” and “thank yous,” 

wondering if all magic has been lost, 

and wondering how ONE MAN could have had so much power over me, 

wondering if I’ll ever survive another Thanksgiving or Christmas 

without a drink in my hand,

wondering if I’m as good as dead, 

but somehow soldiering on doing what I do to make this world a better place 

even though it’s no place for me, now, 

with both parents gone, 

and me spending too much time wondering who I was

and who I am

and whether they’re related,

spending too much time wondering whether I’m lovable, 

or even fuckable, 

wondering if I’m 

SO DIFFERENT

from everybody else.

and the loneliness of an old, empty house on a rainy day,

there is a little hope,

or something like it,

a voice that tells me it will be all right,

everything will be all right.

Even if my heart doesn’t know it,

and my face doesn’t show it,

there’s  a sliver of hope here somewhere.

Someone shine a light please.

Wrangle me a girl like you.
Oh my my that’s what I’m gonna do.

I just can’t overcome my fear.
(Talk to me, talk to me.)
I wanna take your arm, walk outta here.
(Talk to me, talk to me.)
But I’m a chicken shit, you know it’s true.
(Talk to me, talk to me.)
I just don’t know what to do.

Wrangle me a girl like you.
Oh my my that’s what I’m gonna do.

If I lean to the left, I’ll reveal my hand.
(Walk with me, walk with me.)
If I smile just so, you’ll see my plan.
(Walk with me, walk with me.)
Girl, oh, girl, it’s no surprise.
(Walk with me, walk with me.)
My intentions are in my eyes.

There’s only one thing left to do.
Kiss you.

andovertonesoflemonscentedknees

allredfromrubbingonthefloor

fromthecornertothedoor

tokeepthefloorandmysoulclean

Doyouknowwhatallthismeans?