061925

Love isn't something you lay with like a blanket.
It's not something you wrap around yourself to stay warm.
It's a hand reaching in the night, a heart beating against your cheek,
a song you seek that hums across bodies, lulling you to sleep with presence.
Skin to skin, pulse to pulse, it reminds you that you exist.
And in the morning, you don't carry it forward like an old trinket. It knocks on your window like fresh daylight and invites you to carry yourself. 

Before your eyes can find the eyes that look for you, you have to find yourself in the dark. Love is that threshold where you meet yourself and it's the home that waits for you out there. The deep stretching yawn that marks how far life goes in your own belly. And the exhale that lets it all go, reaching for another. 
Then you say good morning. Then you share a smile. Then your hands can truly hold. 

Love calls for you like a reflection, a dance of light - the response is yours to arrive into, again and again. 

061825

Yesterday sits on my back like a boulder.
Fear in my stomach like a stone.
Face crumpling like a pinch, 

dreams that clutch, needs that grip

and a shadow so tight
even hope turns into choking - let me shed it

and wake like a flower in yellow light,

roots humming, spine straight, 

palms like leaves, uncurling.

Let my path wind 

like a secret

through moss and fern,
sweet things that grow, quiet 

like a love gently tended. 

And let me be patient, 

if nothing else,

still, until mist bathes me 

like a blessing. 

Let my heart bloom in this, become peace,

a garden that we can find sanctuary in.