Mente Mezcla

I forgot to put the subject  In front of the action. I lost my step Steep footing  sharp, gentle sloped terrain  Trouble ahead  Double rewind  Whimsical, thorny branches  Litter the neat cobblestone path to a Forbearing, forbidding garden  Paw licking felines line the walls Hiss to the beat of her steps  Tender pulsating bliss  As she moves  Gingerly in silence  Through their land  Holding her own hand  Mind cursed, Well versed  Human Beast  Sacred mammal  She knows  she’s hunting and hunted  Softly piercing eyes  Fixated on her foliage  Wondering what’s poison,  What’s nourishing     So she steps in front of the bow As the arrow loses Splinters  Near miss and Direct hit  Creating  An extraordinarily dull  ordinary contradiction  See: He wants her vulnerable  What happens when she’s not?

Press Play,   But don’t rewind   Time is a circle It doesn’t matter if you try   The dice will always hit the floor You will always pick them up   And roll them again

You’re here  And suddenly All defenses down I lay my sword  In deference And exhale exhaustion Sleeping next to you Deeply dreamless  Every exoticism  Every dance Every play  Extinguished  We wake  Nude, laid bare to un bear  Revelations: shared stories,  So many  Lovers past  Childhoods too fast  Our own children and all the things we fought  With and without  You make me coffee,  The cream swirls erotic  I inhale more of you  Before I sheath my weapon And leave (maybe the last time) For the high country,  Nourished 

I cradle the Winter Solstice Saturnalia like an ember in my palms, the bones of this land humming underfoot, frost lacing outstretched grasses like silver prayers. Here, in the dim breath between years, I breathe for us all:  for the unheard wind voices, for the rivers that once danced free, for the thirsty roots pressing deep into ancestral soil. This Christmas, Mother says, there is a liturgy in the cold, a soft insistence woven through every bare branch that asks us to remember: we are made of earth’s own longing, her echo in bone and breath. The season feels like a trembling, truth bared by candlelight, a reckoning stitched into the blue-black sky. The political storm outside rages with greed and fear, shouts and fractures and flimsy crowns; here, inside the quiet kernel of winter I hold a different fire: a flame rooted in rose-heart hope, feminine, fierce, unashamed. We are promised no easy peace! ...only the sacred work of tending the wounded green be...

 ( Subtitled… the right to change my mind)  Still: Your Top notes Chilled cucumber Citrus cocktail Water lotus Drenched green leaves  Your Heart notes Szechuan pepper Mirabelle plum Lavender White cedarwood  Your Base notes Sandalwood Guaiac wood Patchouli Mus k Immutable mutable me: (Eve’s Revenge) Top Note:  Williams Pear This note provides a fresh, ripe, and juicy opening to the fragrance. (Heartbreak) Middle Not e: Sweet Pea This is a soft, floral note that complements the fruit with a garden-fresh scent. (Remembering) Base Note:  White Musk This note creates a powdery, clean, and smooth finish that deepens the scent and adds softness.  Plus a vanilla cream to soften the skin (if not me.)  So what if… and I’ll entertain it… It’s actually another “you”  (who for once)  Carries the investment Giving more than you take An unusual vibration Ripple effect of a smooth pebble In the depths of my dark born lake  The investment, still al...