After all that therapy, I can finally stand to see myself. My horns shine, regrown from when I filed them down. My tail twitches, untucked from between my legs. My hooves tap, unshod à la Shoeless Joe, how apropos. My bed blazes made all ready for when I lie down in it.
Tag: dragonfly book
Self-contradiction
I have spent my whole life developing a theory justifying living untheoretically.
Kintsugi
A favorite item can't be replaced. The cup I was - I liked to drink out of - is broken now. Was it my fault? Was it my faults? - the fault lines that make it so easy to break? No! In defiance... No! In love... with, of, for myself In the fire, I bleed gold and heal. Resplendent! My faults No! My spangles My Self
Lightning Bolts
A supersaturated atmosphere of raw energy envelops us, creating a million potential tributaries. Any lucky one elucidates its burning connection up to heaven, rightly, quaintly, evoking God.
Vault of Heaven
Child monk Full of sin What does it matter! blissfully oblivious God cradles you A footpath lifts you above the ravine A gentle breeze kisses your cheek A tumult gusts in the tree tops merely to thrill your devilish little heart
Blazen Rites
It was a hard winter though it rarely froze In a pleasant, desperate search I walk the entire park for respite A tuft of purple crocuses The sniff of a dog Little waterfalls The bend of the river Will it be enough? Intuition indicates the right path I hesitate, but take it Such a long walk — for what? and to go the whole way — it's getting late I reach the horses’ ring The naked woods are on fire The bold sun hovers atop the hill yonder, its rays a kaleidoscopic crown, as if waiting for me the whole time
Good ol’ days
Mercifully temperate summer days glide into autumn. The footfalls of my vintage recently-purchased Doc Martens sandals advance on air. The pedals of my quaint just-restored Bianchi Parco churn in silence.
Flow
feel happy
Maintenance
I left my apartment windows open — I am wild that way — and the rainstorm ruined the place to teach me a lesson. I caulked the cracks in the plaster and found patches from before. I repainted the walls and noticed the hasty paint job; the corner’s curves giggled as I lay down the painter’s tape; my soul felt the healing of wet, tender bristles on the wood’s latex skin over cracks, bulges, bumps, and bends. This place was alive with getting put together and falling apart again. I beheld its incurable quaintness and brutal, undeniable charm. Forlorn, I came to understand I would only add my own mistakes. I lay in bed; the walls were mine. The apartment an awning of wilderness.
Verdant
So startled to see vibrancy: the full tender flesh of the flowers; proud colors present themselves before the overcast sky faithfully to the sun. Fragile, these fall days; about to tumble… the wind wisps about me. I see a tree struck by lightening; a cloven branch clings to the trunk, its leaves at my feet, curling with burning crimson. I gaze up and blink at the tree’s green leaves.