songs of womb

there’s alot of talk about connection. she said she recognized me and I knew she meant she could feel me, and we could call it alignment but why muddy the water with all that white fence talk. you could say that is one of the issues I’ve carried since I spilled that drink back in 2004, 2006. back then I spoke to that wine, I lived in it. and now? this isn’t simply a light that wanes and surges, a meeting of energy and a study of expectations. this is something I’ve always known. this is a rhythm. we have a rhythm.

when it all began my eyes were glued to the gold and butterscotch hues. I took my time to consider the sway of hips and the deep hand drum rubbings of the heart. deeper still through the fragmented crystals shining back, through parted lips and eyelids, there is no question in a rhythmic existence. I’m wondering how I lived so long knowing but having forgotten and therefore not knowing the cadence of what is real and from the soul and from the space in between what I’ve become and what I have always been. so you try to remember the time you wouldn’t lie. you begin to tell only factual things cause you can be proud of something now. you can not fake rhythm. this I have seen

you can ask for a kiss after a drink of water. you take off a layer and press into her, back against the wall, whispering a low vibrant hum against her cheek, being musical, made inside that beat. this is how we…