It Was The First Time I'd Ever

I Wished She'd Been Smart Enough, Or Loving Enough, To Realize Everybody Has Burdens That Crush Them, Only They Don't Give Up Their Children.

The Symbol Of Goddess Gives Us Permission. She Teaches Us To Embrace The Holiness Of Every Natural, Ordinary, Sensual Dying Moment. Patriarchy May Try To Negate Body & Flee Earth With Its Constant Heartbeat Of Death, But Goddess Forces Us Back To Embrace Them, To Take Our Human Life In Our Arms & Clasp It For The Divine Life It Is - The Nice, Sanitary, Harmonious Moment As Well As The Painful, Dark, Splintered Ones.

It Was The In-between Time, Before Day Leaves And Night Comes, A Time I’ve Never Been Partial To Because Of The Sadness That Lingers In The Space Between Going And Coming.

At Night I Would Lie In Bed And Watch The Show, How Bees Squeezed Through The Cracks Of My Bedroom Wall And Flew Circles Around The Room, Making That Propeller Sound, A High-pitched Zzzzzz That Hummed Along My Skin. I Watched Their Wings Shining Like Bits Of Chrome In The Dark And Felt The Longing Build In My Chest. The Way Those Bees Flew, Not Even Looking For A Flower, Just Flying For The Feel Of The Wind, Split My Heart Down Its Seam.

When Had My Fear Of Broken Plates Gotten So Grandiose? My Desire For Extravagant Moments So Small?