Menstruation... period.

My body has started a riot
against me and I cannot keep quiet.
My mood is haywire
and I'm getting real tired
of everyone saying, "I don't buy it."

Fever Dream

You seem a dizzy dream to me--
nothing more than a fever delusion--
and you put my mind to ecstasy

as you force me to dance, make me feel free.
But you spin me around, elicit confusion.
You seem a dizzy dream to me.

My head falls back, hot and heavy,
into your hands and ready for fusion
and you put my mind to ecstasy.

No more longing; lacking loneli-
ness and was-ever-present exclusion
but you seem a dizzy dream to me.

So I faint and fall to my knees--
again, head back, incoming contusion
and you put my mind to ecstasy

when your palms cradle me up, unexpectedly.
And I'd swear you're just an illusion.
See, you seem a dizzy dream to me
yet you put my mind to ecstasy.

Limerick of Dislike

I've never quite liked structured poems
and I don't have the interest to know 'em.
Unless you're Shakespeare,
get your ass outta here.
What the hell else rhymes with poems?

Mamihlapinatapai (Yaghan: a look between two people that suggests an unspoken, shared desire)

Not in the slightest a rarity,
we find ourselves staring together,
speaking no sound--
noiseless knowing shared through glares--
daring each other to make the first move
but for moments, we

squint, smirk, squirm
like the night I said I loved you
and your first response, "I know."
Then repeated, requited, "I love you" came back to me.

"I know."

And we sat silent, steady and breathless,
starting to squint, smirk, squirm again.

We stayed quiet, ready, wanting--
needlessly taunting one another
with strong eyes
but we required no words.

We require no      .

Ko No Yokan (Japanese: the sense upon first meeting a person that the two of you are going to fall in love)

After sun fall one early summer night,
when all the light was city-stuck and incandescent,
you sat and glowed on your own
but no one near seemed to know
so I walked on over to steal your warmth
and you were hot-
ter than I first thought.

But you ceased to burn out so I
inched toward your flame and we played games all night,
acting pro and speaking prose
and blowing smoke rings at each other.
Then you spoke of Mark Rothko and a play that you knew--
I think it's called Red,
and I'm sure my face flushed and resembled the play
as you toyed with my heart,
but you turned cherry too
on a mid-May night, in the city
with no light but your own that you shared with me

as we prepared to fall for each other.

Retrouvailles (French: the happiness of meeting again after a long time)

It’s been three days since our last embrace—

arms locked like links of chain traced around each other

and morning-dew-doused doe eyes of mine

made breaking away an uneasy ache

but your candied taste still lingers on my lips.

Even in my darkness-draped, unawake states,

I wait for you, but I’m hazy;

head and heart heavy and it’s only been three years,

I mean days

since our last embrace,

but tonight, we’ll tie our ribbon arms into bows

around each other and unwrap presence

that we know in each other.

Your sweet tongue will slur sugar through the dark.

And we’ll wake, weightless hearts—

Worthy

We've been together for only a few months, but I feel like we've gone through this cycle a hundred times over, and for this to be over would devastate me. You are worth fighting, worth work, worth risks. As am I. As are we. I want this more than you know and I know you want this too. Be patient, my darling, as I will be for you. Desperately, I search too hard for what already stands before me, constantly. Deserving, you are where my care and kindness falls and that won't fall short. My dear, you are who wakes me when I downwardly spiral to despondency. My love, you are who pushes me back up mountains of darting despair, and all the while you never leave me bare; instead, you douse me in hope.

My constant, you are who reminds me to tell myself I am worthy, and now I know. I am worthy of love.

I am worthy of you.

For Tyler.

Fall

Carmine takes over,

plays tag with copper, crimson, cherry

and paints our world rosy.

Flushed, Autumn is falling for us

and I'm tripping up too on my

too soon too eager bashful wishes while my whimsy

floats on and you fall to red.

Leaves ride on whistling wind and tones turn tangerine,

bidding scarlet farewell,

brightening the blood of once-lives and

the sun sets in.

We are warm, willing, awake.

Wide-eyed beginners,

we jump in and resuscitate life

and today falls.

Shadows scour our maze

so we fight our way through

'til night ceases to stay and light races over us,

saffron sweeping a path back to day

and we've run circles through this

twist-and-turn puzzle

to find ourselves back at the start.

And we fall to our knees, covered in leaves

but we dust off and stand up and stare at the sun,

all worries now done.

I'm no fool. I've found gold.

I'm drawn to you

I feel you in the air and I'd less than dare to say you feel me too.
I've lately been unaware, but the stare you wear wears me down,
it weighs me down.
So down I go
heavy, not hindered
and we could render something from the sketch in my head
'cause I'm drawn to you
and I've been drawing you
and me
for merely hours, but now I'm stuck on what could be ours.
What could be ours?

New pieces to come

I'm starting on a set of self nudes. I love drawing myself and I love drawing nude people so I figure combining the two subjects would be perfect with respect to my interests. I'm keeping myself faceless in these, though, because in all of my self portraits, I focus on my face. I am so interested in body language yet I never really focus on it in my work so I think it's about time to really pay attention and have the viewers try to look more thoroughly at my pieces and actually try to understand rather than me laying it all out for them.

Just thinking.

In the presence of he whom you love, no barriers are found - no bridges to cross, no walls to tear down. There is that moment and that moment only, in all of its boundless beauty, and it consumes you, pushes you to oneness and openness, frees and captures you all at once and I wish there were a word for that - that mutual, beautiful surrender.

Life is steady

Rest easy, little lady
your life ain't leaving - it's wading, steady
Lie down, girl. You chose your bedding;
soft, sleek, slick silk
Head's getting heavy
Drift into dreams, rough drafts of reality
Keep up that smile -
that's all that I ask of me.

Just some recent work.

Beautiful people who take over my heart sometimes

I like photography

I didn't think I'd be one for photography until Esther let me use her camera. Now that I've seen what I can do from behind the lens, I can't wait to get more involved with the medium.

Hands and feet

I feel like peoples hands and feet can, at times, be just as expressive as their faces. I'm going to start a collection of hand/foot drawings because just having these two makes me think I'm supposed to be drawing them. I'm proud of these pieces.

Self portraits

I draw people because they're beautiful. I draw myself because I seem to be able to capture myself in a better, more appealing light with my own creations than any camera ever will.