the wind whistles its arrival as dawn returns from its night travels the sun smoothing its cape open a matador reigning supreme in the soul

softness connecting every touch strung on a mesh of memories your body a place of reunion your soul a place of worship beauty curved along

i sit on my throne in crimson red no shame in my shoulders for i am worthy of my place let not the curves of

a single moment re-lived for a lifetime words replayed on glass blocking the sun of newly lived moments mistakes long forgiven still dangling from ankles

the needle of your pain pierces through my veins streaming through my blood caressing every cell in my body and like an addict getting her

you're capable of more than you know your power as infinite as time and penetrating like the winds that stroke the trees at night your

the winds come unannounced with nothing but time in their pockets as i watch the trees sway in this ancient belly dance their bodies curve

the desertification of our planet approaches slowly but like our own death it comes steadily and with promise yet wise men and women holy souls

your music makes me run wild like mustangs in an ancient canyon abandoned to the wind i yearn to run free to hug the winds

i like where my mind goes when i close my eyes imagination giving me wings to fly last night in his castle beyond all mountains i dined

I sit at the edge of my memories and I wonder if I own them are they truly mine? or do they sit at the

I looked down at the white sheet of drawing paper that seemed to stare right back at me. Start your family-trees she had said.  Everyone

I've fought my way from a place I cannot name. The shaking of the wind no longer scares me. the swiftness of it all the

We've become heartless in the name of freedom, ruthless in the name of fear. We've become too proud, too hungry– hardened souls and lying dreams.

His hair of white, with years on me; he'd take my ear: I listened carefully. He'd shake his head and always smile at some trouble

  I would kneel, knee to wood if it pleased you. I would lay forehead to the ground if it were a need to.  

Yesterday I had coffee with a born-again virgin. A friend from Los Angeles, Lillian is a 32 year-old dentist who used to be a true

I'm hopeless but I'm hoping. I'm defenseless but I'm hiding. They will come soon I chant. I'm crumbled I'm angry I'm alone I'm lost, I'm

Your name was my Shadow. I found refuge Within your voice. Not the need Of a lost soul, But the desire Of a fulfilled woman.