The Arabian is My Lover

And we know that
it isn't an equal relationship.
He waits for me all year,
patiently stretching his arms back
in hopes that this time
he'll close them around my embrace.
I know I'm not his only lover
and he isn't mine alone.
We're in a long distance relationship
spanning space-time and lifetimes
and that is our lucky charm.
We say goodbye for now
knowing that we will meet again.
And until then, all I have to do
is cup my ears to hear him
calling out to me from the horizon.

-

I am sorry.

I'm sorry for the way things turned out. I'm sorry that I set off a disaster which could have been largely prevented.

(Read the rest in the captions below)

-

Thirty five
Not gonna lie
I'm so high
In your garden.

Mid-thirties
Life unleashed
Yes, more please!
Another shot.

People say
Hey, no way!
That's too late
For abandon.

Not to fret
Don't forget
No such thing
As forever.

Fleeting time
Shifting sands
Though I'd like
To forever be

Thirty five.

-

Dance like a fascist feminist

Grab your own breasts and other aspects of your sex before anyone else gets a hold of 'em.
Spread your legs, Gyrate your hips to the rhythm that your mama never taught you.
Close your eyes to this world. It has nothing to give you.

-

Yesterday
The planets could see
The country light up
In a barmecidal display.

Without the canopy
Of sunlight
One might assume
Progress

Or a fair leap to Divinity.
On the ground, many wait
On the labour of some. We wait
For the damage to be undone.

-

things I miss the most right now
aka
little littles

the inside of your elbow
watching your beard grow
the subtle whistle out your mouth
after the incoming roar of your snore

notes left on the side of pages
dirty ditties, wisdom for the ages
the way you lose games, the stages
of you coming to terms with changes

your maddening habit of counting
pennies while burning money, pretending
we're Bonnie and Clyde, we're spending
our frizzy hair in the wind, unheeding

you sleep - your faint eyelashes
below - those dreamy glances
like tennis players, two dancers
pirouetting to several places

the things I miss the most now
how do I contain them all, how
of all the tears I allow
yours are the bitterest, somehow

-

Sheila

I remember I was eating chow-chow
In my living room, watching TV trailers.
One dance number after another, shimmy and sizzle,
Staccato bursts of masculine hoots and whistles
I remember the way twilight bathed the living room violet pink.
I remember the quiet tinkle of metal
Mother making chai in the very same steel vessel
That was a gift at her wedding thirty-six years ago.
I remember the faint smell of spices,
The bit and crunch of a peanut in my mouth
When she came on air.

(Full piece in captions below!)

-

Okay, I give.
My cards aren't great right now
And frankly, my bluff could never handle
Your eternal denial
About the well-being of our bond.

For you,
You're still at the stage
Of diving into fresh-smelling laundry piles
Instead of folding them.
Of using wine glasses to drink more water.
Of arrested development
And while I find you cute
Now a child in my embrace
Your actions are cutting my lifeblood away.

And so, for my own sake,
I fold.
I cannot be your mother forever.
Go look after your selves or perish in your own need.
Either way, I'll be fine.

-

Who am I, you ask?

I am the forgotten deity, one of thousands
Left behind by white men who couldn't understand
Divinity in savagery.
Demonised by high castle hunters who burned
The devis at the stake.
Cut away from convention,
Too large to fit in civilized boxes,
I roam the edgelands
Free for now and for ever.

-

I will draw first blood. 
It doesn't matter what does the trick. 
Rivulets will begin to flow down,
Birthing pain and frail hope, 
Hope that I will smear on my face 
As a declaration, war cry
That I will not go down quiet, 
I will not rust in peace. 
I will only be dragged heavily
Kicking and screaming into nothingness.
I have done it before
And I can do it again.

I have bled before
Created new homes and paths. 
Burned and glowed and exploded
Into a hot soup of stars and moons,
A whole world borne of pain,
Deep in its complexity, awesome in its detail.
But what is a world? I can do it again.

-