heartbeats

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i sit

eyes closed

with earth clay on my face

healing

i feel two heartbeats

radiating

pulsing

loving, through my veins

i’ve been dreaming of your eyes

what color they may be

the shape and contour

the fullness of your lashes

the size of your pupils

the thickness of your lids…

i dream of the magic they will carry

opening into galaxies

of your ancestors and creators

carrying the stars of your grandmother…and mine…

protecting…

i dream of the first time your eyes will fall on me

the honor lying in that gaze

the swelling of our heartbeats…

my dearest warrior~~~

i love you

 

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may

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There is growth inside me

a sprouting of seeds

in a place i was told was dead

by scars that hold childhood nightmares

of dark shadows and hot whispers

ripping into my ears

a daggered love

that was not love at all

and yet here you are…

growing

and i don’t know how to feel

about a creation of cosmos and soil

that i had made peace with never being able create

and i wonder if it’s okay to want you…

i saw your heart beating

and i wonder if it’s okay to want you

white jade in my hands

i sit under the sun and wind

…and pray…

pray to the earth mother for guidance

and the moon for clairity

i feel with the rise and fall of my swelling breasts

a sense of fear and doubt, but also wonder

expanding with my womb…

i wonder what you would look like

what magic you would carry

what art you would make

what revolutionary song you would sing~~~

maybe it is okay to want you

after all, a wise warrior once said;

“the hacksaw has two blades.

the shotgun has two barrels.

we are pregnant with freedom

we are a conspiracy.”

 

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i’ll settle for strange

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i like to watch you while you sleep

some consider that strange

and i guess it is…

but there’s just something 

in the way morning rays light your face

like a beautiful picture

to beautiful to capture

yet, i want to carry it with me for the rest of today

as i watch your eye move under closed lids

and your chest rise and fall…rhythmically

i imagine your dreams

how they may be

some hard that require healing

and some of pure magic brought on by wishes and mary

i wonder if you ever dream of your mother

how she held and kissed you

how she laughed and scolded

and laughed some more

i never had the honor but she looks like she liked to laugh

i like to think you’re dreaming of her

and when you wake, maybe this morning you’ll remember…

 

i like to watch you while you sleep

some consider that strange

and i guess it is…

but i haven’t written anything in months

and just following the peaks and valleys of your resting face

was enough to spark inspiration..

so i guess i’ll settle for strange

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tuesday

Imagesometimes i feel a darkness creep

shadows from hidden places in my childhood

my mothers voice trying to convince me that no one besides her really cares 

that trust and love and magic 

are things only found in blood ties

i can’t really blame her though

she was just trying to dodge her own dark shadows

by grasping onto life she created.

. . . 

i have wrestled with demons of worthlessness

anger

distrust

fear

 all my life

sometimes i win.

sometimes i lose and retreat into myself.

today i lost.

but thats okay

because the solstice is blessing me 

my sisters are guiding me

and when i can’t find enough spirit to love myself 

the moon always does.

and through these tears 

i see a way to heal.

 

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to embracing the power of our wombs and our connections to mother moon: day2

Imagetwo daze before for full moon my shedding is heavy but with every cramp i breathe out some of the poison capitalism has fed me.

i sit with the sun in this late morning

creating spells

that, today, 

i will release any insecurity that makes me feel unworthy…

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to embracing the power of our wombs and our connections to mother moon: day 1

ImageThree daze before the full moon i start my moon cycle. and instead of complaining about the discomfort of this shedding i will take the physical pain i feel as an embrace of the spiritual trauma i and all my sisters have been forced to carry. i will take this bleeding as nothing but a sacred event because that’s what she is and i will love her as a shedding of the scars i have come to bare….

i sit under dusk and stars

the muscles of my womb contracting

usually, i lye in bed 

plugged with cotton and feeling everything less than desirable

but tonight

i sit 

allowing my moon to flow freely

concentrating the pain into a release of survival’s traumas

particularly on those around my childhood….

though i’m not completely rid of physical and spiritual discomfort

i must say

i feel beautiful.

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for my sunflower sister

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together we walk
like warriors
sisters of the cosmos
with daydreams of sea magic
and shameless love for our cunts
sharing laughter and inspirations
healing
the wounds left by patriarchy
we cultivate revolution
between our breasts and our ovaries
we are power
i love you

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