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Final Moments

Allow us this time.

Be here with me in these final moments.

You insist on parting from me even though it devastates your heart.

Don’t leave me alone in our sorrow.

I need you to feel this with me.

Hold me close and touch my face. I want to remember the feel of your hands on my cheeks.

Soften and say all the words you feel that I most long to hear.

Kiss me with the lips of a man who knows that every time we meet, it may be the last.

Lay yourself bare to me and expose your raw. Accept my brokenness in return.

Be present with me in these final moments.

Let what is left of the light between us carry us through the dark one more time.

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Upon Waking

I woke full of you.

I could feel my soul lean into your pull.

The heat of your embrace was palpable.

The air was thick with your scent.

I woke fully, an ache in my soul, filled with sorrow.

The tears were real. Your presence was not.

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Sparkle

The sparkle of your eyes, clear and blue when you smile, dances like swirling stars upon my heart.

And when you are brave enough to look into my eyes, something breaks wide open in me.

I’m looking into the Universe. Vast and stunning.

What pours out of you fills me. I never feel more beautiful than when you look at me.

Those parts of you laid bare in your stare prove to me there is still good, love, and beauty in the world.

I see you for all you are and all you can be. And you mirror that back at me.

For those few moments, we are both the best versions of ourselves.

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306 Days

I saw a t-shirt that said, “Retired Blackout Artist.” I found myself smiling but sad. There are so many times I miss my old drinking self. In my head, I resembled Karen Walker. A short, dark-haired lady, who had a tolerance for alcohol so high she could drink an old school biker under the table. The lady with a nice rack ordering two vodka martinis, dirty as her first drink at the bar. It was who I was, a persona I created to justify the alcoholism in my head. I thought she was funny and fun. I liked being her. I know the reality was much different. Double fisting martinis all night was not artistry. It was insanity. 

I mourn that person. I was her for 30 years. She was my alter ego and she was fun. She was my shield, my armor, a way to protect all the brokenness inside me from spilling out. I hid all that pain away behind her. Nobody wanted to see that. People wanted to see what kind of shenanigans I would offer up after two bottles of wine in my belly. Until they didn’t. For those that love me, it wasn’t a fun ride. It was a scary-ass rollercoaster, probably with clowns. One loose screw could derail the whole fucking thing.

I am sorry.

But even knowing all of this, I still miss her. With her my penchant for the dramatic, my wild side was left unchecked. It felt good. Until it didn’t. Yes, she took me to some crazy fun places. We saw a lot of things together. And she helped me master the art of blacking out, of functioning in a haze. I thought she was my friend, but she didn’t really love me. I didn’t love me.

It’s been 306 days since I’ve heard from her. I wish her the best. I hope her retirement is going well. I learned a lot from her but I also hope I never hear from her again. Sometimes in life, it’s just best to part ways.

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Clara

You are my heart in human form.

I see you, my love.

All of you.

So wonderful and beautiful.

All the pieces of you that make up one perfectly imperfect being.

My heart is filled with the light of you.

Time passes too quickly. The feeling of rocking you is still familiar. The weight of your body nestled perfectly in my arms.

My breasts are still heavy with the memory of hours spent nursing, gazing at each other as your eyelids grew heavy.

Watching you grow has been a great joy in my life and I am honored you chose me. I am humbled by the lessons you have taught me. And I am grateful for all the love between us.

You inspire me every day and I imagine you moving forward armed with your insight, empathy, and incredible sense of justice all set to the score of Star Wars.

I carried you in my body, quickly and quietly.

I will carry you within my soul forever.

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Beckon

I drop my dress.

The sight of my bare back and the curve of my hips bewitches you.

I hear your breath as you trace my body with your fingers.

I step wide as you run them run down my stocking.

You sit forward and pull me in.

Nesting your mouth on the small of my back, you place a delicate kiss there and inflame my whole body.

You breathe in, surely, you can smell the dampness of my sex.

I face you, legs wide, and lower myself onto your lap, moving gently against the hard ache straining within your pants.

Your hips rock as you kiss my mouth.

I slide off your lap and beckon you to follow me up the stairs.

We fall into bed and deep inside one another.

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Beautiful Ache

It seems for you and me,

there is no way to say goodbye.

Letting go of hands and drifting away, we find we are tethered.

Twin flames drawn to each other in the dark.

We are bound.

Our love is a beautiful ache.

And we are forever returning to fall into one another.

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Full Moon Rising

Letting the waves of the Lake rock me, I watch the Moon.

I am drifting as she rises.

She grows larger. A sacred luminous figure in the Sky.

Watching her rise, I am reminded that like the Moon, life is about phases.

Sometimes I am full, brimming with love and possibilities.

Sometimes I am dark, starting anew, invisible, and faded. Lost to the brilliance of the Stars.

But always waxing and waning.

I stand in the water and turn my back to the shore.

Alone with the Moon, I tell her all my secrets and wishes.

I tell her of my love and my loss. My hopes and my fears. I open wide to her.

Though she is silent, I know she understands. 

She has been witness to countless pleas like mine since the beginning of time.

In that living confessional, I open my palms and send her my prayers.

We agree, 

I will release fear.

I will release doubt.

I will release all that does not serve me.

I thank her and turn back to the shore.

Lighter and blessed, I step out of the water full like her.