The atmosphere at the corners of my mind droops, the spaces inbetween darkening perceptibly. Something in the chest just a little bit off. This is your absence.

if i forgive you it is in the service of my own liberation it is not a gift if i forgive you it does not mean i want to be around you or see you if i forgive you it is an internal event a dissolving of resistance a discovery of peace a long awaited & deserved relaxation

Lantern of Osiris thinning the veil with light Illuminating that glowing lattice of Indra's net sun mysteries in conjunction with stone circles turning away from that stained altar of Melchizedek sacrificial dagger's bone handle still in hand sighing once then twice and then rest

the remedy for your anxiety is not to hurt me with your presence passive, like now or active, like years ago i will not sacrifice things i cherish, subject myself to reactivated erupting wounds so you can sleep better at night boundaries are not aggression rather, self respect and preservation

delicate flux interlacing the aether between us subtle but discernible inhabiting together body sensation shared with rain scent and vine shadow the miles unmeasured transecting different geographies

loose membrane all around placed by personal asuras helping you sleep feels better much better to forget for the moment now stirring slightest wonder which moment the only moment now ripples grey fog of loss waiting in poisoned peace an abeyance until you remember who you are

looking down gathering marbles unburdened by trails of glowing dust looking up through veils those diaphanous shrouds eyes lingering to focus on beyond looking over glasses across teacups and cream into you

tired of complicated feelings too exhausted for nuance uninterested in subtlety unable to perceive complexity empty. shut down. sleepless, again

she's getting older now didn't keep up with friendships over the years and years thought about people but didn't reach out to them now she's lonely still thinking about folks staring at her phone daily wondering why none of these people are calling her randomly out of the blue after decades

dancing towards the light without heat eyes closed supine, savasana sometimes an initiation sometimes a ritual washing but always some presence tonight, a bird painted on cave wall twenty thousand years ago has felt sensations to share stillness in motion within stillness in motion

sometimes he feels like he exists in Kafka's mind injury to the nervous system incomplete childhood response to overwhelm trapped in chest and hips unresolved and frozen for decades is not a mental health problem but that's where he is always sent to people who can not help and do not understand

a shopping mall remembrance from the sound and light of the arcade to a circuit of the food court ending in cheap noodles on plastic chairs through the bright halls past meandering families check out the music store with cassettes or, later, CDs and into the bookstore my happiest of places

my darling, do you remember when we made you a crown of hawthorne and walked the forest at twilight, stopping for venison stew crunchy bread and a bit of cider your candy necklace glowing pastel by the fire mine, slowly disappearing as your dessert thinning the veil towards fireflies and moss

deserts tinged with scattered ancient settlements once walked by mystics, inner eyes backdropping all in Tyrian purple communing with local spirits for hunt and harvest or just a daydream standing in the local grocery glancing an eggplant

by age seven her scarring was complete heart shuttered closed for business although she had no way of knowing at age 39 her heart opened in one overwhelming, unexpected moment too late for much but not too late to love her child not even the universe could take that away

you and i on the dunes by the rhythmic waves during the summer season of shooting stars in the deep of night the ocean calls and calls again as lips touch and reeds gently sway in the breeze

whispers of dignity in buried acorns appreciating potential future scent of autumn prelude to centuries of stolid, gentle resonance

coterie of bluebirds and ancient turtles suggesting abstractions she doesn't accept even in this dream so turning away flowing, stretching into that ocean both salt water and formless realm looking for a place where no one offers anything for there is no one else and no anger at least for a time

the path of purification Is seeded with diamonds you’ve hidden from yourself

i know you get so scared and it has been a hard road but things will get better even if you don't trust that statement it may help to allow yourself to hear it

close your eyes and i will place this candy necklace around your lovely, delicate neck close your eyes and i will provide daffodils in riotous blossom around you close your eyes and i will ensure that fuzzy warmth you favor wraps around so very gently close your eyes and i will lie beside you

candle flame dancing behind stained glass ignites the stardust in her veins whisper caution not too close beyond the reach of ancient power structures delicate beauty starkly intermingled with such a cold hardness all the more entrancing to one such as her as close as she dares approach

connected by intangible mycelial networks an illuminated bare bulb hanging on a fraying cord flickers in response to changes in filaments originating across the planet. there is a boulder in a corner of your consciousness; a plug. move it, or have it moved and be stirred my dear

his heart hidden frozen perhaps accessible within nagamani under starlight walk soft breathe soft don't forget to tip the driver of your chariot

she taught by pointing & she pointed towards a change of focus unmasking the trick of light embracing the impossibility of underthinking Emptiness defying the implausibility of Indra’s lightning pulled spontaneously from ambient static electricity

at the beginning his advice was to cultivate discernment prior to and above all else there exists a profusion of schools, teachers and traditions salted with frauds, well intentioned mediocrity, escapist fantasy, and predators. and even after that it's only the rarest that can take you all the way

before immersing in the adytum she had to build it navigating space a fog drifting through sessile oak worn like a soft Welsh melancholy eventually discarded as dew completing a circle perfect and broken hiding arcane runes of new beginnings calling to the crescent moon so she could begin the work

she walks through life in mirrorshades so others can see the gardens behind them full of honeysuckle, the sound of high prestige language mixed with light birdsong and water running gently over stone. or so she says at parties she walks through life in mirrorshades and can not yet confront why

the archaeology of book deposits in a hallucinated chapel smeared with fluid concepts rendered in concretized ink elegantly correct extravagantly wrong inevitably violent justified with irrelevance backed by strident conviction gifts to the fear-eaters who sit smiling, content.

evidence of spring bright flowers laid on grey plinth earth nurtures warm grass

A parabola of joy lacking the smell of verisimilitude Vacancy around eyes ; iris so thin. Colored but strained She is so tired. Tired of of cheering for Troy, for Hannibal, for Archimedes. For Cleopatra and Joan of Arc They live only in her imagnation she knows. but it is enough it is too much

Touching your warmth that first time, by the water's edge Like the founding of Alexandria its colors and its breezes indelible sensation ever present streaming gently throughout the urn of having been

Payment in portions of blood moon for safe descent from the citadel of shaded heart magic Receipt of guarded parchments unlabeled, because there is no need Beaten on the anvil that breaks all hammers Written in obsidian upon the nighttime sky Found when lost inside you all along

ancient licentiousness documented on stone pass millennia, lit but hidden from the sun stirs heartstrings on paper, for my virtue has been similarly negotiable wanting desert grass and spirit of aloe yet only finding peach juice, mutton, and lies dreaming again of radiant, prismatic heresies

fragments of the one thing orders of roses disorders of magnitude altitudes contained in seashells rubbed to warmth along garlanded outdoor hallways salt mines buried in cold cuts gliding like paper airplanes above lustrous chatoyancy coffee grounds fresh eggs and toast some juice and silverware

Your office in the small, old stone building. Up a few stairs, turn left. The lock on the giant door doesn't work, but we keep that quiet. Papers everywhere on and off your giant desk. Mind so beautifully organized and being so beautifully radiant. I have always loved you and I always will.

stones lying on a riverbed. clean linen in a drawer. unmanageable compliments hanging in the air. open curtains on second story windows. all just being

When she was nine she cried one night, days before flying off to see grandparents and visit Disney World She was so excited, packing days in advance but she cried in bed because daddy couldn't go with and she wouldn't see him for a few days Daddy had never received anything so precious.

she sees more birds more often than a person really should. they fly over, they follow, they're around. always around. she says the birds came after a particularly numinous experience, unable to be contained by ordinary language. I so enjoy her stories her eyes the richness of her presence.

Throw the salt over your shoulder onto the floor with fading memories of her childhood her favorite ramen and favorite egg noodles now both closed forever. yet there are still rainbows and there will be more eclipses. soon we'll go to hear the sound of melting snow and better, quiet places

My relationship with Candy Apple Red is complicated On hearing the name, feelings of negativity and superiority On seeing it, always attraction in the wild, learning it's what I'm looking at and not just nameless lovely redness, internal conflict. why? not sure maybe I’ll ask myself next time

Goetic fantasies sprung from burnt logs atop cinder and ash. Watercolor moons on parchment watching water running quietly. Opening to these and other distractions as solace whilst kingdoms fall in embarrassing fashion. These are times for weighted blankets hot chocolate and deepest comforts.

Speak to me in the language without lies walk me through hanging gardens to gemstones set in gold buried with ancient, battered swords display for me and only me silent indwelling veridicals coaxed upward by the vine of dark and the light; the jaguar and the hummingbird; our dark wine of teas

Submit a reimbursement request for the stillness in your diaphragm. existence enforces a statute of limitations you may not want to miss. try to relax as chest pain turns into bubbles of buried memories parasympathetic deficits won't resolve by eye rolling or tea drinking no matter how defiant.

She told me there were sounds that made her feet tingle. metal, children shrieking, hard objects hitting hard floors. She told me the light was too bright. Always too bright. She liked a story though. Planets with atmospheres raining iron. Finding love on jungle rivers. Feet nestled under covers

There was something sweet about your hesitancy an innocence in the momentary delay Sharing a pizza on Friday night in that special place while the guitarist in the corner scorned us and all the patrons for conversing instead of appreciating his genius Just notes now but still a classic text

What if colors looked different to different people? If my blue was a little different from your blue What if a tritone felt different to different people? Discordance for you was comfort to me? What if love was sandblasted from a child’s heart by parental fear and anger and they never knew?

many many moons ago there was a time we touched I stopped things before they began what if I hadn’t? these are forbidden thoughts or perhaps at least unhelpful but still they arise and still I yield & experience them maybe your higher self if such a thing exists hears my call, smiling

Swim with me down a gravity well of minced oaths and birdsong Sky in your hat finest sparkly socks contradicting a multiverse of wardrobe keepers Eternal gitas effervescing through body finding joy in light tickles Sparks of remembrance strobing into and out of being come swim with me please

A walk in the forest to visit the shepherdess the chance to become a horizontal plane The gentle spirit of that tiny cactus cutting calling from somewhere in the sun etherialized body-world floating through halls filled with the sound of purple feels so much like home before fading