Dipped and bathed,

Spun around

until we are like

kaleidescopes,

a multitude of

faceted reflections;

our honeycomb human cage.

Once satisfied,

the puppet master

reclaims ownership

of these strings,

and dances us back

the way we came.

Just look at us.

Such prideful bipedals.

Running to and fro

Urgently and importantly

On our spindly little legs.

So dramatic

Our losses

Our triumphs

Our unanswered questions.

So, dear Oracle,

Gatekeeper of my infinity,

Riddle me this,

Whose laugh is the loudest lastly?

then the door

slams shut

the heart shutters back

to its hiding place

the void re-enacts

emotions are only

chemicals, after all

more chemicals

are added to the mix-

for stabilization

the pain has vacated

in its ridiculous defense

the army has begun

to sabotage

and cannabalize

itself

I feel like an instaslut,

craving that momentary

facade of love.

An introverted attention

whore

hiding shamefully behind

my unemotional closet door,

where my heart is dying

for a quick fix,

all you have to do is click

and for awhile

I won't be so hopesick.

Need to find a connection

as disgust fights

with my desperation.

I halfway pause,

holding still,

watching for

the confirmation,

that I can continue

my life again,

in this world that insists upon

the constant spoils

of self gratification.

To come together designates that first the two must be apart. The female must be divine in her femininity, and the male in his masculinity. They seem to be opposing, but perhaps that is what is necessary to create the dynamic for procreation. Which calls into question the current dynamic of recent times. The goal seems to be depopulation. Of course, clarity is often blurred by emotion. Perhaps this is by design. Divinity, language implies, is a gift from the Gods. We, in turn, are perhaps gifting them.

When I think of blessings, it instantly brings to mind the auto common superstition of the uttering of "bless you", the quick trick to foil the devil from stealing your soul in that moment your heart stops during a sneeze. (Is that really true?!)

This ties into the definitions of "blessings" for me if I break it down and think about it. The blessing said before the consumption of food, the blessing we give to a downtrodden soul; this is giving a thanks in advance, the protection of something we don't want taken away from us. Our nourishment, our faith, our hope, our happiness. Our safeguard that our Life, our joy, will not be stolen from us. Out from under us when we are vulnerable to attack, when our guards have taken a bathroom break.

I find myself offering up blessings in those instances I realize what I take for granted, the rug I realize I am so unsteady and so grateful to be on that could be swept out from under my feet, so suddenly and irretrievably. I bless others in the words of "blessings" in a conscious way, for their happiness, and as a comfort as well.

On the days when my heart is not so heavy that it has clouded my vision; at the onset of my day when I am released from tempest darkening my Soul, I offer up a wordless gaze, rich with the vocabulary of the Universe, bursting with thanks for the blessings of now for the stretch of the canvas of today that is blank and inviting, wide open to hopes and dreams and possibilities.

Blessings to the mystery of all that is available for me, and the mystery of my hope that has created this awareness inside of my Being.

In the darkness

that I taste

this is

no saving grace

Wasted away

the chance

for amazement

Beauty is,

after all

the key to

containment

I turn around

inside myself

sliding

down

from the

perch

I've grown to love

With a sickening

dread

I deafen myself

to the thud

Shut my eyes

tight

as Reality unfolds

All this Silence

is a stranglehold.