
I will mirror your move

I will mirror your move

When your friend is on a mission put your figurative umbrella above her and let her complete it.

Everything is a door into myself.

Just one moment of resting in the ground of my own being
Beats the taste of ten thousand girlfriends.
One hundred million of them.

All I have to offer
is my vulnerability

I just want to sit at the feet of the master
and weep.
I just want to sit at the feet of the master
and weep.
I just want to sit at the feet of the master
and weep.
Hope, oh so ever poisonous
hope:
Why did you come to visit today?

Wanting to connect
I die to myself.
I can’t tell if that’s a bad thing
but it doesn’t matter.
And that’s a good thing.

To realize that I’ve been mourning the loss of what I never had.
What freedom!

She is the priestess of a god that doesn’t exist.
I once loved her, like in the cartoons,
my jaw to the floor, red, silky toys reflected on the memory of those vast green eyes.
With the power to burn or to heal,
what she does with that prowess is not for me to grasp.
All I know is that I make myself vulnerable and notice that nothing burns,
nothing remains.