Poems

The magic of a slow blowjob

Let me tell you about the sweetness Of soft, nourishing, and tender love Of climbing into bed In early evening, just after sunset And winding skin together Of whispers about the future Excitement Of climbing on top, body pressed against body Holding his gaze And saying you are the best man I know.   Let me tell you about the magic of a slow blowjob.

there is no word

There is no word for the way You would feel When watching a 30-foot wave crash to shore   There is no word for standing at the top of a mountain The air quiet No humans around your existence   There is no word For way it might land in your body To witness the messy, gory Primal Birth of a child   There is

The moon does not say sorry

The trees do not feel attached to their beauty. The wind does not whine about how many people don’t like it. The flowers do not plan meticulously how they will bloom each season. The rain does not feel upset that it’s been coming down too long. Winter does not care about how many things she kills. The mushroom does not spend its time worrying about

Last Night He Drowned Between My Legs

Last night he drowned between my legs Slurping, opening around his face as she blossomed The windows were bare a straight path of sight for any curious neighbor And his fullness was in my mouth. Thick, throbbing with the velvety soft skin, my tongue playing with every fold And then I remembered I was not allowed to come. A rule I had set for myself,

Do not rob yourself of the sensation of naming your true desire

Do not rob yourself of the sensation of naming your true desire Do not squeak it out of your mouth, mumble it, and look away Do not shove it back down into the box of you-can’t-have-this-you-don’t-deserve-this-they’re-going-to-react-this-way Do not send it over text message so you don’t have to witness their response Instead let it bubble up, let it spread throughout your body until you have

I am devoted to the sunrise

I am devoted to the sunrise ⁣ To the rays of light that cast themselves over everything, nudging each branch⁣ Saying wake up, wake up!⁣ I am devoted to the stick bugs⁣ Their tiniest waves feeling like a Disney movie ⁣ I am devoted to the dew drops on rose petals⁣ Pouring rain from a leaf onto my tongue⁣ I am devoted to the rain⁣

Messages from nature: Days 1-11 (part 1 of 3)

Day 1 Her mood changes daily. ⁣ ⁣ Some days she is raging, crashing⁣ Charging up the shoreline ⁣ Bigger, taller, demanding. ⁣ ⁣ Other moments she is gentle. ⁣ Continual rhythmic motions⁣ Ice cold, in this part of the world ⁣ Slowness⁣ An invitation to enter ⁣ And cleanse. ⁣ ⁣ Some days she is completely still. ⁣ Resembling something else, almost⁣ Her waves

A lady in the dark

Things are coming undone   Let them die.   A lady in the dark Snakes wrapped around her organs She keeps herself collected Pretends she doesn’t feel them Inside She wants to surrender, to Receive   It is calling her to take Responsibility Swallows of the coolest water She holds herself   Like wax, she melts When lit   Fills her own container First  

Put me with the dead things

— I wrote this poem on August 9th when I was in the depths of a huge energetic shift, and just found it in the notes on my phone this morning. Wanted to share with you.   Rest came for me this evening It did not warn me It did not even knock on the door. It did not give me time to plan, to

in Reverence

In Awe I bow   In Reverence   To Her   She knows exactly what is needed in every moment, Exactly who She is for   To some, She gives a drop To others, a flooding Some, a tsunami To some, a gentle river Lapping waves, and Crashing   She doses her medicine In the perfect amount   She goes where she is called. Where