Voices
the first time my heart spoke to me
it said things about god.
i was a little child.

before that my heart mostly mumbled
i heard it through a swaddle
then later in a very old and ugly man's lap
that was before fear of things like elderly lips
and dried spit and the thin skin of the ground calling
to a human that the end is waiting.
back then i didn't know why i loved.  just did.
or why i curled in the lap of death.  just did.   for a cuddle.
or why i wanted to feel wind on my bare chest.
just did.

after i became comfortable with the voice
it became my own.
and then i said a lot of terrible things
and then i sang a lot of pretty melodies
and then i told people i love dearly to go fuck themselves
and then i cried out loud
and very loud.
and then i laughed like in the movies.  the wild girl.
and then i told stories.  lies.   jokes.
i told men i loved them.  men i didn't love.
i told myself to be quiet.  but out loud and everyone heard.
i gossiped.  i whispered in class.  i told the truth.
i said i was sorry.  i said i was leaving.
i made promises.  i read bedtime stories.
i shrieked.  it was so scary.  i moaned his name.
i asked for help.
i told myself i was beautiful.  in a mirror.  in Indiana.
i told him i love him.  i love him.
i prayed.  the voice of a child.  the voice of god.
my heart.

"Write Him Off" recorded May 2012 at Flipnotics (courtesy of DaveTeeVee).  That's Ray Prim and Patrice Pike with me!

A supermoon
the baby owls whinnied in the trees.
foals.

exhausted,
i reached into bed.
i held onto your fear.  a commitment.
i sheltered your imagination and
considered what i knew to be true.
i hoped for a train to scream
from the other side of the greenbelt.
like a lap steel.  night sounds.

you pulled me close,
feel.