A Wild Woman’s Self Belongs to None

I touch her lashes and warm her cheeks, caress the titillating tale dancing on her mind’s lips. She is dark and bright and alive under me. I want to enjoy her eyes on my heat, but Nix sets a mountain between us. Tomorrow is only a few dreams away. I will awaken your skin at dawn, my sweet. I will taste

My thoughts collapse under Sin’s silvery tongue. “She was born to my glow”, he says, painting a trail on the sea, making waves rise for him. “She dances for my light and dark. She is of me. Her Self is mine.”

I say nothing as I dim for Nix. But through the energy that makes Sin and You and Nix and Me sidereal bits of the Universe’s whole, I burn a sunny truth into the moon: “I flow in her veins,” I tell him, “glow in her soul, help heal her woes. Yet, she’s neither mine nor yours—a wild woman’s Self belongs to none.”

kiss the sea
at dusk, sun and moon,
taste my wilds

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a wee note…
Nix is the Greek Goddess of the night; Sin (or Nanna) is the Sumerian God of the moon.
– Linked to Prompt Nights – a photograph is but a memory in raw format.

Sunset, Friday Harbor

Never Underestimate an Old Man Who Is Also a U.S. Veteran

I’m not very good at the art of journaling on time… Well, not unless it has to do with hospital stuff, in which case I have no choice. When it comes to recording (and sharing) life’s bits, I like to take my time. Not just because I can be mildly lazy, but because I like to digest experiences before I write them out.

That’s the reason why I’ve yet to write a post about our recent trips to Salt Lake City and Friday Harbor. We went to Utah to celebrate my Father-in-Law’s 90th birthday. The picture below is not from the celebration, but do I need a reason to share the fantastic t-shirt my Mother-in-Law got for her love?
Never Underestimate an Old Man

It was wonderful to see my Piano Man share a bit of scotch with his parents…
Scotch

…and rage about a certain wild-haired politician with his father.
William and Grandpa

There was time for with visiting old friends…
Old Friends

…and sharing fun anecdotes with former colleagues.
Old Colleagues

No hometown visitor should go without ice cream…
Grandma and Grandpa

…or without paying their respects to those who have gone before.
Graveyard in Utah

After Salt Lake City, we flew… drove… ferried… to Friday Harbor. I’ll save those details for future posts. All this mind-travel can be quite exhausting. We were so tired on our way to the island, too. Most of my bits were issuing wild curses into the wind. Except my teeth… my teeth never got the memo.
Magaly and William, 8-9-16

Use Word Foreplay

This weekend, over at the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, Kerry invited us to craft a poem while keeping in mind the phrase, “This is not what we came to see”, from Brian Patten’s “The Projectionist’s Nightmare”. My muse might’ve had way too much fun with the prompt *cough, cough, cough*.

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“Use word foreplay”, he ordered.

She obeyed, whispering, “Hard,
deep, harder!” her edge and her tongue
cutting quick and bleeding bone.

His eyes opened so wide, his mouth
wider… as her stiletto hit the right spot
between his legs, and his screaming
thrilled her will to take all.

“I am trouble”, she batted
long bloodied lashes, “it’s not a rumor.”

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the wee notes…
– Kerry’s prompt asks for a new poem. The 3 blackouts that inspired this short piece were born months apart; separate, they tell three different tales. I’ve combined them, tweaked them through the mind of a slightly disturbed speaker, and (I believe) turned them into something new. Let’s see what Kerry says…
– I am also linking this bit to Poets United – Poetry Pantry 316.

Use Word Foreplay

Thrill

A Troubling Rumor