About a Friend
You are music
Swirls of energy dancing in lavender-colored spirals with vaporous entrails of winding, shimmering light
Depositing bouncy vibrations of gold
You are a Gregorian chant
Deep tones of purple velvet
Nestled among hues of indigo, crimson, slate, midnight, steel, & sienna,
Converging and coalescing into One tone
You are chocolate
Creamy, dark gelato
Melting inside my facial cavern
An ancient grotto where the darkness keeps the secret of your seduction as the chocolate slowly, ever so slowly,
Drips sensuously down my throat
Creating liquid stalactites
You are winter
Seasoned – Peppered with wisdom and grace
Pregnant with the seeds of Possibility
Gestating creative embryos
You are summer
Innocent Youth leaping, capering, frolicking
Over Kelly-green meadows of tall grass
Swaying like synchronized swimmers amidst
rows of iridescent tulip hats
Sun-soaked, mudlucious, puddle-jumping youth
Touting Crayola-colored balloons
On strings of harmonious, carousel melodies
You are authentic
Mirthful, cheeky, sanguine, audacious, spirited
Vacillating, moony, impetuous
A complex, dynamic, magnificent woman
the Next Generation
Elder woman, Shimasani,
Shimasani, cronus, corona, coreolis, quintessential,
Entrails of smoke circling and spiraling
the Shimasani lies ahead, a – head –lies- in the dirt, a – head- lies on the pillow, lies on multitudes of pillows, the bed moves up
The bed ascends higher and higher to reach the ceiling
Beyond the roof, to the being I am to BE, to Become
I am the one who will teach the others,
I will teach the young
Follow me. Let me show you the way. Let me show you MY way. BUT…
You will follow your own way.
I can only show you my path. Show you. Not live for you.
My path – pathological – pathos logical – paths of logic – pats of logic – past logic – past…
I am becoming the Past.
At some point there will be more behind me than beyond…
And then, I will move on
And you will BE.
You are dark nights. You are sundrenched fields at high noon.
You are love. You are my bleakest moment.
I believe in you, I curse you.
Pray for my soul as it lays in confusion, panting on the floor, a mangy, hungry dog.
Torn asunder by storms, picked apart by vagrants
My fragmented reflections fractalized in the jagged shards
You, the sharpest shard,
Plunge yourself into my heart
A perfect puncture
Blood, breath of life, squirts onto your hand,
My crimson, majestic life force drips down your arm,
The pulsing slows
You taste me, my essence, red and alive, the juice of my being, reflected in the miasmic pool of amorphous glass
Dripping onto your soul
Burning a chasm, a tunnel, a river
You can feel me move down your veins and arteries and create tributaries in your flesh
And I become one with you
Who are you?
Where do you begin and where do I end?
the Divine Lover’s Dance
We sat and talked. Just talked – huddled in an old blanket.
We understood everything.
With words. Without words.
We laughed so hard we rolled on the floor.
Belly laughed. Big, long draws of breath, so hard it hurt our sides, and stole our breath, and we gasped for air.
And we understood.
And we looked deep into each other’s eyes,
and laughed some more.
The music calmed us.
He asked me what I wanted.
I told him to dance for me.
He moved like a warrior.
Strong, confident, bold, ready to battle any challenge.
The peaceful warrior. An oxymoron.
We were the quintessential paradox.