a premonition

"do you know what it’s like to live
someplace that loves you back?"

Since dawn, I have felt specters from time immemorial perforate on my back & shoulders, hang heavy with need, thick with honey dew sap & lavender tea breaking bread over scattered trails of loose teeth. We weep with eyes wide open, fixated on a dream moving phantomwise, out of reach, irises so dulled we don’t even realize that we’ve already always still been asleep. Hubris—a double-barreled gun pointing both ways—sways with the foreplay of my hip, dancing in a moonlight only known by the wayward, vagabond, marooned and others whose lives have been forfeit long enough to gaze at time’s face and burst into laughter. Midnight has already struck for us so many times—what’s one more dance, one more drink, one more after-party to shake out the disbelief at our predicament? After all, who else will save us?

I must be honest, must confess that I am a woman of feeble temperament driven by the necessity of her conditions to speak power into truths-now and truths-yet-to-come. My wires have been crossed, garden untended, flowers bloomed in the dark, damp closets unfit for a rising sun (hold the prodigal). And yet (and yet!) my tongue flickers like reggie’s name on a back porch or flooded waters under the bridge. Sweet kin of mine—solsistas aligned with where the sun don’t shine—won’t you join me for this dastardly duet with the divine one last time? I promise, I’ll make it worth your while…