a wonder to the light

Basking in the summer sun, humidity sucks upon my skin’s glisten so that hot and bothered, I try to talk to my lovely wonder out loud:

I ask the light, “Are you always this bright? Or do you actually know my soul, and that’s why your glow makes me so giddy I’m dizzy?”

(Talking to myself, I can’t fathom a true reply, so I go on, knowing that here, when I write, from my own truth I don’t hide🙂

“Your shine twinkles glitter and gold specks, mesmerizing my heart to melt into a fuchsia fusion of delightful energy, and into a slippery fall, I willingly tumble, embracing the dream with no expectation at all.”

(Oh, my dear, fear builds them brooding Indiana cornfield cumulonimbus clouds that tremble a thunder of doubt in the backdoor of my mind…

You’re still just a romantic fool by yourself, creating a beautiful reflection of a connection that you must have felt in another lifetime.

For the glow, I’m eternally grateful;)

Painter’s Song

Glowing

I stepped through a portal

into a different world

in which a dream grows reality

in a cosmic connection

of dancing souls, and

swirling we spin to GLOW

with tunes turning keys,

tumbling my tummy round…

Ohhh love! My heart sings loud,

Your glow makes me feel found.

Glow, Zack Gill

Thank you for an infectious reeling in glow!

real reason: respect

Heavy-chested today, rolling round so slow that often I’d stop and sigh, dampness welling without the cry. Why? I ask myself sans sound.

I don’t want to say goodbye, that’s why!

I feel like I have so much to say, so many things to learn, my heart breaks with a yearn. In my small world, my mind is something no one knows, but that’s what your words show, an understanding of what hurts and a positive way to think about it regardless. Like a superhero, your voice saved my soul!

I crave a conversation with depth and respect…god, I wish I could be your friend.

blue used to feel black

Blue used to feel black, like a head whack! But, with a smack! back, because of you, blue feels bright almost a teal tropical skyline at dawn, shady clouds hanging out, shaking off the grey dew warmed to twinkle in the sun anew. When my melancholy mind is on the attack and all feels forever daunting and totally MAD,  watching you transforms the blue and tickles my soul to make even my eyes smile, reminding me, things aren’t so bad, just find a way to laugh;)

not pretty

Resentment’s ugly. He makes his sneer so clear with me at the  butt of his insipid joke, and whether I’m an easy target or I’m the asshole big enough to constantly get hit, it doesn’t matter one little bit.

I won’t let him steal my spirit, no matter how hard he tries.  I’m not a pretty picture,  if you knew my life as a wife. I hate having this side, brooding alone in the dark long before the witching hour with a moon full, wondering…

What do I want???

That insatiable hunger, the need to kiss again, the longing to explore passionate sexuality, the desire for spontaneous body searches, feeding upon each other, laughing and loving, giving and receiving…

Ha! That’s not my world. Maybe I need a prostitute.

(I don’t write marriage often, and rarely leave it up long, but sometimes I just feel so stuck, laying next to someone who doesn’t know I’m there, I have to release my resentment so tomorrow my kids see me happy:)

Grounded

GROUNDED! I am. Hope is like magic to me. In a hopeful magic-mirror, I see a side of me that’s happy, electrified with new prospects of fun, giddy to grind with lust on my mind.      

BUT      Magic isn’t real. It’s a con.

When my brain gets too excited, it girgles naughty thoughts, and it tricks me into creating a story I want to hear, a fairy tale.     

About my days, I go slow, eyes looking up, thinking in pictures of…  

what if I found a connection

with a passionate friend, who tickles my fancy, OH yes, a muse for my fantasies…     

Every look, every touch elevates your love…that’s how I wish you’d feel about me, addicted like I’m your very favorite thing.  

Melancholy madness, knowing my truth. No magic can make me hope something will change. I’m doomed to accept my lustless fate, so I guess I’ll just go back to sleep.         

YET         

(I tell you true, this is happening right now!!!)

A yellow finch just now called my attention from my red pen bleeding onto my notebook paper.

Wheels turning I had to ponder, What is this bird saying?

He just keeps singing louder and louder, then I spot him high on a flexible limb, a cloud white floating as his backdrop:

“STOP! LOOK UP!”

He sang so lovely, not at all like the other birds, a voice and rhythm all his own.

Then, a sparrow chimes, “Just live…and be…love life…reality!”

As if stung by the sun, my eyes close, the pain in my neck feels like a knife in the muscle just turned, so a frown pulling my chin down, I wheel back into the cold darkness of the garage and close the door with a wrist-flip, twisting the deadbolt locked.

Enveloped by darkness, I see the remnants of that circle of light and I blink a quick-

CLICK!

Like a photograph, within my mind, I snap-shot this moment in real time where the moon eclipses the sun making me feel warm, less alone.

(I hope you never doubt your worth! I long to show you how much I need you in my life, or I swear I wouldn’t have been able to hang in this long:)