photo tell

crinkling eyes
revealing
faint warmth
masking
depth of heat
depth of intent
dark rose hip lips
gapped open
caressing air
teeth unclenched
yet meeting
cheeks unstrained
as you smile for me

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talking to you for real this moment

continue
saying that
and me yours
no mistake here
i yours
no mistake here
you listened
i saw that
in you
and
value you
you asking
you valuing
you seeking
me regaining
my voice
continue
to be
exactly
who you are
what you are
i owe you
much i wish
to give

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heated meet

familiar walk
a well-worn path
in well-traveled dirt
hard packed density
rock hard
summer sun not yet heating
spring cold land
meet me near Litha
with naked feet
and bare oak.

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inside you

pain
a small flame fueled
ever so quietly by
ether of hope

pain
sorrow and loss
weight of the past
that never completely fades

pain
misunderstood or mistakes
you carry it in silence

pain
you are after all
human.

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Who is the “you” and “I” in my poetry?

So, if you happen to know me, you may be wondering if I’m talking about you, or someone close to me or you. The answer is no. Yes. Maybe. Maybe not. Who gives a fuck? I’m writing about human experience and what we endure while living on this planet. I do include my twisted imagination and twisted reality and twisted feelings. I’m pretty strange in my flesh n blood world, so if my writing makes you feel a bit uncomfortable, welcome to my world. I might write about you one day. Let the world beware, said Catherine Tramell.

The Month is almost up. Not sure I feel like doing this in June. Holla at me and tell me.

Oh, and I’ve been holding back a bit. Look for me to just get straight up weird these last days.

tell me how this works for you

not sure
what you meant
when
you said
you learned
how to channel
your feelings
how that happened to happen
how that would not happen
to all emotional fruit
when
you seem challenged
to express any feeling
or let
your face reveal
truth from
your heart
much less
your mouth
it stays trapped
behind
your eyes
caged in
your tongue
behind your teeth
or was that the point
you were making
to hide and bury
and pray that
when
you finally
dug it up it
wasn’t dust
or worse
forgot it was
there?

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what erotic subjectivity looks like part 1

female sexuality
female subjectivity
erotic subjectivity
woman
unbound
untied
to childbirth
to marriage
not owned
not controlled
no fear
no shame
no mask
speaking
consenting
deciding
being.

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This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License.