I’ve awoken
in cars
off a shoulder
overlooking the sea
started my day
with morphine
and coffee
and vomit on the street
I’ve awoken
in deserts
under one single tree
beside strangers
on carpets
slipped away quietly
I’ve driven til shadows
melt into sands
and the stars bleed
into purples and pinks
when cold weather
has dried out my hands
and I’m too hungover
to speak
I’ve awoken
in twin beds
in distant lands
with lillies draping my canopy
with no one around
to marvel at scenery
with me
throughout this wide world
all my wheel’s quick rotations
all the planes
and the trains
and the rides
from London’s Heathrow
to Grand Central Station
every dawn
I’ve awoken
to rise
everyday is impeccable
all the struggles
and pain
so delectable
as the earth
flips through the slides
in my eyes a
projection of beauty
the greatest adventures
the prefect day
is the day
I’m alive
and I live it
and seize it—no matter the risk
perfection is this
what we all
wake up with
this wonderful gift
all scared and excited
to be welcome; invited
to live for the sake of living
to rise and to fall
to feel love and
feel lost
and the awe to awaken—
awaken at all.

Dear Flower Girl,
Love is the warm mud
your ran through
with bare feet.
Love is woven
in the synthetic threads
of lavender silk.
In the weedy bouquets
you would leave
on neighbors doorsteps.
Sticky curls chewed with baby teeth.
How time-out was just more time
to daydream.
And when anger shook the house,
your magic made cupcakes
that shrunk you down
to hide in photographs with safer strangers.
Your tawny flesh could melt into the earth
Disappear inside a circle of mushrooms.
And all the angels and Fae would whisk you away—
the way the dawn exhales over the dewy mist
is the way your innocence wrapped you.
Immune to hatred
Blind to greed
So tender to the saplings and baby-things.
As if all of nature was a mermaid’s mirror
and you wanted to help everyone
with synthetic threads
and warm mud.

Dear Fair Maiden,
Love is the adhesive
that binds the heel
to your platform.
In the body beneath your tube dress.
Skin so fertile
moss could sprout from your pores.
Your flirty laugh
others would glance at;
sensing it
like expensive perfume
Smells wet and hot.
You teased them all
Made them squirm.
Teetered in the twilight
between summer and autumn.
Between playtime and foreboding.
A mysterious temptation
all apex predators grow into
from being wild for too long.
With a fickle, feather-light weight
dancing from
one shade of red
to the next.
Leave a trail of black pepper and rose and
breadcrumbs of lovers
who search for your shadow
under their pillow.
As if trying to catch a clever crow.
Even your evilness is love—
those fearless talons dig into life
squeeze the prey out of everything.
Remind them what life is.
Leave them panting.

Dear Medicine Woman,
Love is the taproot
that spreads and sprawls
below your feet.
The deep network of
your steadfastness.
Down
with all the centipedes and mycelium.
In the heart of the earth
where goddesses are born.
You are one with it all:
daughter, maiden, mother.
How her joy bubbles with
mineral baths and
songbirds in December.
Each is a present
she graces you with.
Every spark celebrates
the brilliance
you’ve become.
I cannot love the earth
without loving you
The womb of the universe
in every breath you draw.
Brave and beautiful
Wise as willow
Bear the harvest full of fruits
Use your mortar to make medicines
Turn little girls to flower girls
Give the mountain to the maiden
and spread the seeds around your home.
Cradling her young
Forgiving her shadow
Delicate as lace and strong as oak.
Sweet lady, I love all of you
Until love is shown in the bones of your hands
and your skin is dust.
All that is forever—
the reminders life is kind,
the lessons love is hard,
the bouquets on the doorstep,
the hearts that churn at night.
From the baby-bud
to the ancient tree—
and all that’s in between is
the gift that is you.