Peace

She felt nothing in that moment - hips grinding together, rising and falling, his manliness thrust inside her and her body eagerly, eating him whole - at that moment of all connectedness, of all surrender she felt...... nothing and in that nothingness was peace. No anger, no sadness, no anxiety or worry - in that moment of nothing she felt peace; a calm, soothing body of warm water embracing her every cell - peace. And she knew then, at that moment, there was hope for her life after all.


summer 2017

Skin

my skin

lines
etched in time upon the road maps
of this living,
                           breathing,
                                                     aging,
                                                                       body.
  a wish for a curious mind,
                                                  a lucky hand
                                            to trace the winding lines
connect the dots, the spots
                                          marks and scars.

must  have an eye for mystery
       one that sees not an old, saggy
                                          bag of bones and fat
but sees
                   a  woman.

a woman who  has loved, lived, who has been
 broken
                 and re-born;
sees not an imperfect
                             surface but instead,
                                      a landscape
 of songs, curses, dreams and heartbreaks.

my skin

rarely boring and never smooth
                       sailing
                                         always real,
now ready,
                  waiting to share.

I feel pretty, oh so pretty.... for the 1st time in a decade....

Recently I discovered parts of myself that I didn't even know existed.. parts of me suppressed and hidden, so tucked away that I refused to believe that they existed. The feminine me, the "girly" me, the me interested in make-up and clothes, the me that cares about how I look, the me unapologetic about my sexuality, the me embracing my bisexuality, the me interested in men but not because I need a man, but because I enjoy their company. Recognizing the whole "men are visual" trope although I really feel like "being visual" is a human trait, not limited to only men...I am visual. BUT I digress...One Sunday night, I put on make-up, got all "dolled up" and went absolutely no where. I took selfies, lots of selfies, different lighting, different filters, different poses - in color, in black and white. Out of what seemed like dozens, a few stood out. I was amazed at the results.....  I shared and posted them and marveled at the reactions! One admirer compared me to a 1940s movie star. I was filled with a warm, fuzzy feeling. One that I had not had in quite a while, maybe never had.. I looked at the photos, they did indeed looked great. It was hard to believe that it was ME.  I shared them with my daughter, jokingly saying "it doesn't even look at me!" to which she exclaimed "Yes, it does, it looks JUST like you!". I wanted to cry... And then it dawned on me, what that warm, fuzzy feeling was.. I felt "pretty", no, I felt BEAUTIFUL. And not it the "I'm a queen, I'm a goddess, my beauty radiates from within" affirmation beautiful, but for the first time since I can't recall, I felt my outside was beautiful too....And guessed what  I did last Sunday? Some may look at selfies and read this and think EGO and that's fine.... not every one understands why I do what I do... but having spent years suppressing my femininity and then years ignoring it, I'm making the most of it now, while I can.