By the Light of Saturday’s Sun

“The angels visited me again last night,” I say, barely lifting my head from my arm. “They called me seraphim and played with my hair.”

“Mmm,” he says, kissing my bare shoulder. We’ve slept in, and he’s found a place tucked behind me as I lie on my side facing the early afternoon light. My squinting eyes filter the rays into starbursts of light through my eyelashes, a daytime fireworks show displayed just for me. He traces his palm along the valley before my hip, and I look over my shoulder, watching him watch me. Continue reading →

Upon the Constellations We Rise

Two lost loves, one gray, one green

Married each other sight unseen.

Through the air they embraced

Then swiftly departed through time and space

Every night he’d hear her song

The taste of her breath for which he’d long

Would simmer gently along his lips

He’d cross galaxies for just one kiss

Their fates unite them, though circumstances divide

Among the cosmos they remain true and tried

For when again they shall come together

And cut the strings that do them tether

No stormy grounds, nor earthly fires

Will quell their eternal love’s desires.

Seven Sentences for Sunday: The Post-Rapture Edition

Back by popular demand, here are this week’s Seven Sentences for Sunday:

  1. Hoax by crazy fundamentalists to bring light to their cause or not, this rapture stuff was fun.
  2. It doesn’t matter how old I get, road tripping by myself with the tunes cranked in the car and the wind blowing my hair into a mess is one of the greatest pleasures in my life.
  3. The neighbors in the hotel room next to me are having sex for the second time this morning, and I am trying not to be jealous that they are partaking in one of the other great pleasures in my life.
  4. My difficult decision this morning consists of Waffle House or Cracker Barrel as I go on my post-concert breakfast binge.
  5. I find myself wondering what the hell I’m going to do with Jolie this summer, but then I remember that my Mommy pants fit just fine when I get home and get into my weekly routine.
  6. I have stopped wondering where I am going and am just going…somehow I manage to turn just before I run into a wall.
  7. I’ve given in, let go, given up, left behind, and jumped in head first this week…next week I’d like fewer prepositions and to leap in with my whole freaking body instead of one piece at a time.

I love you all, some more than others…

Wide Open Spaces

So I’m totally cheating this week and pulling out some old, unpublished stuff, but it’s kind of fun to look back on some of my thoughts when I was a naive twenty-something. I was reminded of this essay when I once again rejoined the very same dance aerobics class at the YMCA only to find the same two instructors AND the very same Jane with her still stunning legs. So I dug up this little treasure to share with you–from when I was a mom of a single instead of a single mom. Enjoy! Continue reading →

Deconstructing Hairy

I wrote the sketch outline of this shortly after my 30th birthday. This Easter, I felt compelled to flesh it out and finish it. Like a little Easter Egg of too much Destiny! information. Enjoy…

I’ll try pretty much anything once. I’ve bungee jumped. I’ve backpacked Europe by myself. I’ve whored myself out to be in a music video… So when a casual conversation with some members of the opposite sex led to the revelation that a significant percentage of dudes subscribe to the theory that “bare is beautiful,” it got me thinking.

NB: Anyone that has anything closely resembling decency should probably stop right here. Grandma, that means you. Continue reading →

Untitled #27

You swam through my veins, an intracellular jellyfish searching for the exact spot to nest. You found it in my left ventricle, sending your poison throughout my body with every contraction of my heart. Thump thump, you send a round of kindness. Thump thump, you follow quickly with pervasive apathy. Somewhere in between lies the truth, just a half a beat off.

Your long tentacles reached into the reservoirs of my heart strings, stealing away the pure emotions of love and rage, leaving me an empty ragdoll with a limp smile and button eyes that shine for everyone without a glimmer of my soul beneath. The same hot poker that brought my temper to surface and flushed my face with passion no longer brands forever the souls of my lovers, for I have no love to offer.

The spawn you created when you inhabited my being has found its way to my most precious of assets and taken root in my gray matter, toying with the neurons and stealing my words as they fire between the synapses. Wit appears when matched by peers, but otherwise remains dormant, undecided whether to reemerge a crippled version of its former self or to simply lie in an eternal rest.

Loveless, passionless, uninspired. I am but a gelatinous blob of primordial goo, my essence sucked away by the likes of you.

If It’s in the Cards

What if the world was one big card game

with souls shuffled around as Kings and Queens reign

and one-eyed Jacks wink their wicked game,

It’s a treasury, this box of 52,

especially when the cards are dealt by the likes of me and you.

Sworn lovers and enemies just the same,

we both fight for and against, vowing

never to reveal the other’s name.

Magic

Mom…what if I had magic when I was a baby and I could turn into any age I wanted. So right when I came out of your belly I decided to be 16. Then I’d be like, ‘Get me out of this criiiiiibbb!”

–J, who still might be saying that when she’s 16.