Power in Play and Ink

Brendan, over at the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, invited us to “write a poem about power in [our lives] and the world… about power or creativity or instinct… heavenly or earthly powers…” I don’t know of anyone who’s heavenlier or earthier or modest(ier) than moi. So, as you might’ve predicted, I birthed a wee poem about things that feed my power:

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There is power in mind-kissing
words and wit, which quickens
hips and heart-bits.

There is power in dancing
to well-fingered tunes, which kindles
brain and groin.

I find power in song and story…
in loving play… in lusty ink…

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a wee note…
– It seems that I also find power in ellipses… *cough, cough… cough*
– Linked to the Imaginary Garden and Poets United.

“…dancing, and seeing into the darkness…”
The Craft, by Patricia Ariel

This Lingering Maybe

I carry his voice on my skin.

Earlier, between a bath and the moon, my breasts perked to his voice. “I’m yours.”

I left the tub, entered the bedroom. “Were you talking?”

“No,” he smiled, “just typing.”

I walked away, wondering if his fingers had spoken this lingering “Maybe…” stroking the small of my back.

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the wee notes…
– I shared 2 paintings with friends on Facebook, and asked them which one they wanted me to write very short tales about. They chose the lady below, suggesting that there is something about her expression that made them (and me) want to know more about her.
– I will (very likely) shared a 55-word story every Thursday. I want to make this series of tales as interactive (and fun) as possible. So… you, my Wicked Luvs, get to choose 1 of 3 possible paths: 1) The voice she feels on her skin is produced by his thoughts/feelings. 2) She is imagining the voice. 3) The voice belongs to a character we’ve yet to meet.
– Written for Hedgewitch’s Friday 55.

Nude, by Shelle Kennedy