Passion

Great dancers

Where do I place my passion? Where can I open my heart, open my complex wings and let my soul express itself? Who can meet me? I either terrify or enamour those within my presence. My human skill soothes but all else of me terrifies. The dissidence of my existence; I have suffered, found the love of self, my beauty and now I am terrible in my stillness. Some karma it is that follows me. Heavy footprints echo into history beyond tolling to remind that I might be dangerous as I smile with all my compassionate will, and pain rains down. Innocence long left me, I cleave to it, drown me with passion with delight I would never willingly harm anyone… I think of the mouse that my cat brought home last night and was teasing, my heart was breaking so I stole the creature from her grasp, held her gently within my palm spoke softly while her tiny heart found quietude as I soothed her with voice, breath and a single finger stroking her to calm. I released her into the neighbours garden only when I knew she was ready, she was reluctant to leave the comfort of my palm. I have never met a human soul that would do the same for me. Perhaps this is not true, I forget. In the pain I forget. Release me; let me breathe… who finds me? Who knows me? Just when I feel free, truly myself I hit my Wonderwall.

words by errant satiety

Questing

If I gift you with the depth of my eyes will you honour them? Treat the soul found nestled within with respect even if ‘we’ end? Whispered promises, in stillness beyond the enamoured coiling of our physical selves, whispered promises after we have writhed in ecstatic friction as if to break apart and merge within the other; whispered promises easily forgotten in parting and in loss. Will you cherish me even in ending that our secret selves remain forever a treasure between us not a weapon to maim? How do we allow the passing of the true self, unbidden by falseness or fear? Will you hold an image filled with the memory of the beauty of us, of me standing bearing my naked soul for you only, within your mind to evaluate and whisper our promises before uttering aloud the words that might tear me asunder? Can I do the same with the tender gift of your self?

words by errant satiety