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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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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there will be more to say about it

like so many men
like so many women
like so many men
you fear
you despise
you desire
a woman who
says yes
says no
in other words
voices a decision
positive
negative
in other words
consent
i am
a foreigner
to you
i am
alien
to you
my sexuality being
willfully
gloriously
defiant
resistant
distant
to beck and call
of marital call of duty
or other notions
of respectability
that mutes female eros
my sexuality being
too loud
too visible
too tangible
too intangible
to ignore
or control
i am deprogrammed
from the cultish
hymns and calls
of rape culture
i smashed my tv

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fast forward to the good parts

you’d get it all
if you said it
plain and clear
clarity on what
this is between us
way i see it
intimacy begins
with synergy
brain and spirit
even if you thought
Lynch’s rabbits
went too far
we could still
Romance like Breillat
or look for
that indy movie
with no rating
like Cronenberg’s Crash
but gets you
hard enough
to bend me
over a table
lights still on
you could
get to know me better
like sharing poetry
while we watch
collapse of the West
under the weight
of our collective desires
unrequited
or long walks
in the park
discussing the absurdity
of human existence
in the 21st century
as well as looking
for any reason to lick
your lips before
kissing you.

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