Men are like a fine wine. They all start out like grapes, and it's a woman's job to stomp on them and keep them in the dark until they mature into something you'd like to have dinner with.
goddess visited again last night
peyote buttons and candlelight
a swarm of birds swinging up
a calculated cosine
swinging upwards as one by something unknown
vibrations lurking under the earth
all the creatures who dwell here
on this planet are tied to it
bound to it
linked to it and plugged in
behind a veil she dances shadowed in light
i walked down the stairway expecting her smile
the light was out
her room was empty
something grabbed my heart and held it tight
pictures arranged in descending patterns
memories framed in hard wood and gilt
drawn into it
surprised by it
bound to the space between darkness and light