Read poetry until your body tingles. Go to an art gallery and stare at a painting until you can feel the artist’s brush strokes on your body. Gather your girlfriends and laugh until you cry. Then cry until you laugh again. March in a protest and be swept away by...
She’s gone mad for beauty, found rapture in shadows, calls poetry her religion. She seduces uncertainty, names herself goddess, builds altars to the divinity of heat, sweat and sex and claims righteous ownership of the body she has been given.
I am grappling with fullness and emptiness and the unnameable something that could change everything. I am thinking of spells chosen, not cast, of polarity, of clear mirrors. I wonder at how the body can brace itself and choose surrender all at once. I contemplate the...
If you’re going to love a poet you should know this. Our words are our truths. Our blood hums with verse. We break easily. Our words save us. Our stanzas keep us alive. If we loved you at all, we loved you truly. And you will never leave us but live under our skin and...
You have never been as beautiful as you will be through our eyes. You will have never known that the hard edge of your hipbone was worthy of poetry, or the curve of your smile or the husk of your voice or the caress of your cheek against our own. But if we love you,...
I wonder now, is there is a word for strength leaving your body? Or love? What of its arrival? Or is it only pain that the body names, and then only in it’s leaving? It is true, I know, that there are some things for which there are no words. Only the spaces between...
Poetry has a long, long memory. After our love is long gone, we will still be reading your poems. You will not be the only one whose heart this breaks. Know that we will stand, reading the words written about our love – and we will ache for you. The body will remember...
When it came down to it, she decided, she believed in a few important things. In humanity before Dogma. In religion of human kindness. In Poetry. In Sex. In being clear enough to ask for what she wanted, and detaching from ego enough to hear the answer. In the power...
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