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Into the wild

All this time, did I ever tell what I wanted? Did I ever ask you to take me there? I feel like I did, and I saw you reaching for it again and again with other women. So I figured you must know. Even now you are doing it. And I’m doing it, with other guys, who are kind, who don’t know what they want or why they want me, who aren’t you and don’t know me. There is an external place, and an internal place, at the same time. I know you won’t really go there without me….

I want you to pick me up and drive me out into the wilderness one smiley bright afternoon. You’ll play those songs again and say something cheeky and look at me, to see that I want to bite your lips and scratch my way under your shirt, to eat me up a little with your eyes and act nonchalant.

To pull up at just exactly the hobbity home. To  venture in like wide-eyed children and dump bags of cosy treats on the table to be almost forgotten and then devoured under moonlight in the deep hunger of hearts aflame. We dump ourselves on the sofa, half drunk on the nest of green surrounding us and half drunk on each other.

Then it’s all about sensation and safety, closeness and clothes-off, bare-feet and bravery, stillness and still here. We light a fire and everything comes off. We draw the stars in closer and the darkness over us like a blanket. We tell stories of our hearts with our fingertips as urgent rememberings flow from our lips as violent kisses and ripple through our bodies in unison.

We fight, we flow, we are tender and tearing and tears come and laughter. We tumble from deeply dug-up duck down to soaked grassy banks to fireside bear hugs and tea mugs and messy headed nuzzling and lap-lazing and star-gazing and the silent strokes, affirmative sighs of a world re-aligned.

We go on tumbling from here to there and into and all over each other.  Melting in showers, steam after hours of breathing each other in so deeply and fucking it all out. Right to the solar plexus.

Now you can go and dance over the horizon and storm your path and leave me bright and shining. We are complete and you are beside me as you disappear from view, smiling strong.

Just feel this please, breathe it in like delicious woodsmoked night air, or the way you inhale the taste of my neck through my hair, I need you to meet me there and finish what we started, inside or outside it’s the same place and you know it. You only have to let go and arrive.

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Heart, be brave. If you cannot be brave, just go. Love’s glory is not a small thing. ~ Rumi

The hurricane season of the heart, tearing through life. Right in the centre I’ll meet you, in the eye of the storm, where the air is still and the colours are brightest. Slow our heart’s beating to a deeper earthy pulse, resonating and reverberating, fingers entwined. Rest and be nourished to stand strong and separate through the raging vortex when it comes. You build your shelter, I’ll find mine. Go to ground and face the demons.

And when it passes, as everything does, we’ll walk on and pick up the pieces of this world that shimmer still from the rubble, gleaming with all that is good and real, and carefully, lovingly build a house of dreams for all.

If only I don’t bend and break

I’ll meet you on the other side

I’ll meet you in the light

If only I don’t suffocate

I’ll meet you in the morning when you wake

~ Keane,  Bend & Break