A Rough Draft

Lovers of other times

are dropping into my mind,

for cups of coffee, day-dreaming,


our dances of magnetism,

late-night philosophizing,

lessons in foreign tongues,

games of chess in the park,

melting flavors of pleasure,

sudden departures,

enduring friendships,

heart aches and heart hooks,

photographs and missing negatives,

love letters and tearful goodbyes–

many seas traversed and worlds gone by.

I wonder, is this the flooding review

that comes before a dying?

If I surrender to the dissolution,

can I carry parts of you, and me, forward?

If I have a choice, I will carry memories of feeling,

of our rare, naked moments when we let each other in.

And to you, you who are on your way,

I have heard you through the distance.

I have felt you in the space between,

flirting on the periphery of time.

you orbit, coming in close, then departing.

Are you a mirage? a soul projection? a mate? a kindred?

When we meet, sunlight breaks through,

casting rainbow arcs and amber warmth.

When we part, clouds gather,

bearing water and blue-grey cooling.

I savor the sensation of the brush of your cheek against mine,

I breathe in, capturing the earthy scent of you.

I long for our embrace,

the heat of our tender friction imprinting us,

the alchemy of our souls forming a new language for the world to come.


Love through chaos

Our eyes steal glances of beloveds, grazing on form and flesh,
translating energy into fantasy.
As the wind belongs to this forest of fir, hemlock and cedar,
your hands belong to the soft slopes of my body,
caressing my cells to whisper, hum, and to moan.
We have known each other
by other names
in other times:
wild shadow-dancer
lakeside star-gazer
moon-tracking tent-dweller
roaring river-rider
terrestrial trail-bound lover.
We satiate bodily desires with huckleberries and afternoon swimming–
momentary pleasure quenching.
Great longing spans the distance between our lives.
Longing follows us home.
It fuels our dreams, awakens our senses.
Longing asks us to remember how to love through chaos.


A Journal Entry

Exploring my edges–the nature and purpose of my boundaries, my sexuality, my creativity…I may have been long familiar with the idea of how human sexuality and creativity are inextricably connected, however, I am learning about this connection in a deeper and more personal way. I am listening to circulating questions, ideas and messaging. I am learning about what it could mean to liberate my love–to liberate the ways that I give and receive love, as well as how I cultivate and express it. And to be clear, while how I choose to share my body with other people is one aspect of my sexuality, it is not the only aspect and I am getting at something much deeper and different than what some may label as a practice of free-love or casual sex. Longing, desire, attraction and pleasure are my teachers. I am becoming conscious of the direct link between my sexuality and my creative impulses, my sexuality and my inspiration, my sexuality and my ability to think in new ways, my ability to deconstruct the social conditioning of the dominant patriarchal, white supremacist, colonial, capitalist culture of war. I am seeing more clearly how the oppression and the repression of sexuality leads to a culture of fear, shame, mental illness and violence. It leads to a suppression of creativity and an emphasis on conformity. If I don’t know or believe in my power, if I am detached from the natural force of my unique sexuality, then I am easier to control and less likely to imagine possibilities, less likely to innovate. However, if, and when I connect to the power and the unique expression of my sexuality–to the energetic essence of boundless love and eros that flow through me–then I am more alive, more creative, more agile in imagination, more open to possibility, more likely to overcome and transcend everyday violence–I am more likely to live into my purpose.



August longing heats

the quiet terrain of solitary bodies.

August longing radiates

cells that ache with thirst,

parched, dry tinder.

Skin, not as tough as bark,

ignites under touch electric.

Stoked and stirred by hot fingers of wind



filling in,

drawing out.

We burn for days.

We burn for months.

We burn for years.

We are burning now.

Smoldering cores of coal.

Lover’s kisses quench the moment.

Earthy blackberry crushed on lips.

Salty blood-licked thorn-prick.

Callous hands meeting softness.

We smell of cottonwood resin,

of river rock,

sun-baked minerals.

We listen intently for the call

of water at twilight.

Entering slowly,

savoring coolness.

Our roots,

our hearts,

our crowns

emit steam, rising.

We immerse

one and two,

becoming one, then becoming three.

We are multiplicity.

We are transitory.

We are fluid,

playful dreamers frolicking like otters,

our eyes reflect the starry seas of our birth.

We are wounded

warriors seeking

the medicine of touch,

love healing,

willing community.

Community willing the will–

the will to resist,

to undo violent behavior inherited, learned,

the will to cultivate what does not yet exist.



I have loved you from the beginning,

like the hot eternal flame of creation that stirs in every life.

I held the memory of spring’s renewal,

of summer’s abundance

through the deaths of autumn

for you.

I kept you warm in winter’s veiled dormancy.

I blessed your sown seeds

with water, time, heat and light.

now I await,

I anticipate,

I watch for the opening of your blossoms

and the development of your fruits.

Dear Heart

Dear Heart,

(a letter to my heart and any other heart in need)


The absence of romantic, sexual, intimate love that you are currently experiencing is not a sign of your inadequacy, nor of your unworthiness. You are worthy of healthy, whole, reciprocal love. One day you may find it, or perhaps it will find you. Take a moment to remember you chose this path, and there is purpose in it. Solitude and loneliness are great teachers. Take a moment to acknowledge the abundance, the multitude of forms, of love in your life. Love is all around you just waiting for you to notice, to enjoy, and to pass on. Conjure all you have to give your phantom lovers–your fierce passion, your warmth, your softness, your playfulness, your strength, your pleasure, your touch, your humor, your fantasy, your special sauce, your everything–and let it rain down on your being in a quenching, nourishing, ecstatic flow. No one else owns your love. Though others may ignite and inspire your love, it is yours and it belongs only to you dear heart.

I am drawn

(for my unsung muses, and in honor of eros)


I am drawn to you

as I am drawn to water,

to river and ocean.


Your allure,

it seeps subtle, into flesh and bone,

into thoughts and dreams,

knowing not boundaries of distance, nor time.


Your allure,

it electrifies my senses.

It awakens the unspoken.


I long to immerse my body in your waters,

to swim your strong currents,

to be held in moments of stillness.

I yearn to feel permeated,

to cleanse and be cleansed.


I could surrender to your waters,

so cool, deep, and dark,

so soothing

to one who burns.

I could let your waters take my life.


But we are not adversaries,

and I am not here to offer up my life.

We are energies capable of joining, elementally–

magma flowing to meet oceanic waves.

We together would be

a crashing, transforming,

warming, cooling,

sighing, steaming union,

creating future fertile ground for regeneration.

In the Eternity of Your Absence


In the eternity of your absence,

I encounter layers of myself.

My divinity, my demon.

My dreams, my desires.

My goddess, my god.

My nature, my essence.

My suffering, my pleasure.

My past, my present, my future.

I encounter the borders and boundaries of me and everything.


In the eternity of your absence,

I learn the contentment of solitude,

and where the edges blur into loneliness.

I hear and see with newfound clarity.

I feel the burning pulse of my longing.


In the eternity of your absence,

I learn that my body

hungers for your body,

while my soul seeks you who sees and feels beyond–

the you who knows your power,

your root of creation,

your divinity and your demon.


In the eternity of your absence,

I admit, it is high time to take off the masks,

to remove the uniforms,

to break the chains of patriarchy.

This undoing of gender is revealing,

we are multi-dimensional star-beings

housed within sensate earth bodies.


In the eternity of your absence,

I know my root of creation–

how it illuminates destiny’s path–

how desire and intuition intersect.

I learn to distinguish the depths,

of my power,

and the purpose of attraction.







A Love Letter

Oh Love, I have been searching for traces of you for centuries.

I have been digging for your bones.

I have been singing your name.

I have been peering, plunging, into the depths.

I have been listening for messages carried on the wind, in dreams.


I followed the trail of your scent

caught in the heat of summer–

drawn by an instinctual desire,

lured by magnetic force,

pulled by eternal threads of destiny.


You and I, we are ancient history.

We are future possibility.

Our time could be now.

We could mirror and magnify the light within.

We could come into enlivened alignment.


We have water and laughter in our souls, for healing.

We have fire and passion in our hearts, for loving.

We are divine. We are stardust.

We are animal. We are human.

Our words stir the four winds.

Our hands tend the earth.

We are more than can be seen–

earthly and cosmic elements embodied.

One day, we will walk the threaded path home to each other.

We will shake the earth with the amplified rhythms of our dance.


You and I, we are ancient history.

We are future possibility.

This could be our time.

A time to mirror and magnify the light within.

A time to come into enlivened alignment.