Don't Say a Word. Let Your Body Speak.

Lips slightly parted, relaxed and glistening from the dim light shining in the distance. You lean into me to tell me something of your heart and change your mind so instead, you repay me with a kiss on the cheek because of your sudden change of heart. Your eyes are piercing and yearning to be understood. Secretly they let me peek into your soul and see into you. Once you realize that your eyes are telling your secrets, you shyly look down to your hands. You muster the confidence to look into my eyes once more. A glance turns into a stare... But don't worry, I can keep your secrets. Our bodies speak a language that our words cannot comprehend. Something as simple as my nails running across your skin will send chills up your spine. Something.. as simple as a shy smile will be inviting enough for you to follow me into a place unknown to us. Our contours will grow accustomed to each other. It will be second nature to fall into a peaceful sleep in that position that will comfort and protect you--even if it's just my arm placed across your chest with your hand gently holding my wrist. We'll fit, like puzzle pieces. And when your eyes well up with tears, my hands will wipe your face before they get a chance to wet your shirt. When you look down to hide, my hand will lift your chin up because there's nothing to be afraid of. Release yourself in my embrace. Just, let me hold you when it hurts. Tonight close your eyes and rest your body. If you pay close attention, I will tell you all that you inquire without ever having to speak a word. If you are afraid to speak the words out of fear of judgment, guide me with your body. I want to show you because my words can fail. But this is something that you already know-- soul meets soul on lover's lips. Yes, you will find peace in this silence. Body language is louder than words sometimes.

I want you to wrap your hands around my body.

Take me to another place, let's get away from here. . .

Let me show you something brand new.

You Keep Me Together

Thank you daughter, thank you.

Casablanca Lilies.

Dear Mommy,

I was sitting here pondering in this dark room and I picked up my journal. Yes the one that comes with me everywhere just so that if I happen to be inspired or if I am too shy or ashamed to speak my words, I can write them down. I read through it again and I came across a little secret letter I wrote for you back in January-- the month that never existed in our world and I wanted to remind you, just in case you may have forgotten. . .

I think of you every time I go out to the bluff. I miss you. I go out there and inevitably I begin to reflect. I appreciate you. Tonight I thought about the time you sat with me out there on the bluff and we had a heart to heart. I can't help but reiterate my everlasting gratitude for you and the place you have in my heart. Way back when, I had nearly passed out because the last time I had eaten was god knows when... You sat me down outside of your classroom door and you handed me a bottle of water, an apple and crackers. You ordered me to EAT. I'm thankful for that day. Being in my position, it's hard to watch from a far when people burn you and are unappreciative of your natural being. Me being me, I just wanna take it all away and smack some sense into a select few... Unfortunately I cannot rob them of their life learning, but damn it, I wish they could see your priceless worth. I'll always be grateful for you.

-Forever, A.

I can see the humanity that holds you, the past that thrusts you forward, and the future that inspires you. You are beautiful Mommy because you never stop learning and you don't accept mediocrity. Even if you have to try it again, you rebuild yourself like your graceful phoenix. I know that you believe in me, even when I don't believe in myself. I know this all to be true because you loved me.

Find Some Beautiful Place To Get Lost. . .

She coyly smiles and urges me to chase after her. The wind blows her hair across her smile as she turns back and skips far ahead of me. The skip turns into a swaying walk and she doesn't look back because she's confident that I am still close behind. I gently brush my hand against her hips and I stop her in her tracks. She leans her face to the left, I pull her hair aside and kiss the right side of her neck. My hands find their way home to her waist and press her up against me. The city surrounds us, while the sun seeps through our summer skin. Time doesn't just slow down, it comes to a complete stop and then we are the only two in the world enveloping ourselves into each other in slow motion.

Take my hand while I dream and never let it go please. Pull me through into your world so I can dwell with you.

[taschka turnquist]

Just Fall

I look forward into the distance without blinking. I stare into a remote place until it burns. The refusal to blink is only giving my tears time to well up, become too heavy, and race down my cheeks. I want to blend into the distance but I cannot advance until I trust that she will catch me when I fall blindly into her arms. The game of trust is fickle. I've fallen onto the ground too many times and I shouldn't want to do it again. But I want to trust that she will catch me when I fall backwards into her arms. I fell backwards before only to be surprised that she wasn't there to catch me. She was suppose to be my support but instead I just fell through the clouds for another to catch. I only want to be able to trust that she cares enough to catch me. 

Just fall.

Cooling Off the Fire of My Longing

The breath you took before your body turned limp, felt to me like rising too quickly, feeling a rush of blood to the head. My head became light and my body was drowsy, as if I was dowsed with an antihistamine. My vision faded to black and even though I blinked and widened my eyes, I couldn't see a thing; not even you. Come back to me. I will nurture your weak body back to health. I wouldn't hesitate to solve you with my kiss. I squirmed nervously in my seat trying to keep my composure because I wanted to do the things that my hands are not powerful enough to perform. I looked at my palms and wondered what they were worth if I could not even ease your pain? 

I paused to examine myself. My body: paralyzed from the tension racing through the electrical circuits that replaced my veins. My foot: shaking uncontrollably, counteracting my anxiety, secretly calming me. My eyes: moving swiftly, gazing upon every surface suspiciously as if it had wronged me. Moments passed where I sighed and changed positions to break up the monotony of this helplessness. I could have sworn the entire theater heard the beating of my chest with every silent moment.

Buzz Buzz. Don't worry okay? Buzz Buzz. She will be fine. Buzz Buzz. Hey relax, she is doing okay. . . Buzz Buzz. Stop worrying. Buzz Buzz. Buzz Buzz. Buzz Buzz. . .

Patience is really testing me. I must sit back and let time heal this without interference. The gap in time and space between us is agonizing. Because in my head, I'm pacing in your waiting room, I'm staring at my shoes. I blink again, and I'm sitting in this theater, even farther away from you, going in and out of range, hearing words of poetry but not comprehending what some of them are because my mind is elsewhere, my thoughts are with you.

Oh City of Lost Angels, How I Love You So. .

My beautiful city. My first love. I cannot escape from the tight grip you've got me under. Your eyes are too dreamy to look away for too long. And even when you disregard my heart with traffic and gloomy skies I still come running back to you. You send your lovers on long windy roads full of detours and pot holes but each and every one of us believe in our naive hearts that we can overlook your flaws! Your melodies saturate the air and I fall in love with you all over again. I try to act like you don't mean much, that I'd rather run away from you and never return, but you've got a way of luring me back with your sunshine, bright colors and hypnotizing music. It's not always beautiful but unlike most, I can say that I can wear my summer skin the majority of the year.

So Superwoman and I, ahem, Mystic Moon and I had the great realization that living in our city is like dating a musician (no offense Nush). Dammit dammit dammit. I always fall for the creative ones.