Dark Moon

Twig by twig

No other way to labor

Building a nest, a community, an ancestry

*

No other way to understand

Truth of the cosmic realm

As a love that resides within us all

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Birdsongs that call

Back from the edge of falling

Heard with a repetition of listening

 *

Cognizant of the third day of each month

The date that dad died

Measuring grief in dreams

Delight for the wisdom of a night’s visit

Aches that begin from the center of the chest and emanate

*

Balm of a milk frother

An electric kettle

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Fear of a dull mind

Greater fear of one exaggerated by chaos

Dancing to awaken to the realities of flesh and God

Within balance

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Sensitivities colored by a lineage

Conditions evolved from abandonment

A truth exists before and beneath

Hungers to be returned to

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Intimacy can seem absolutely doable when alone

A safety of sorts when one knows alone best

Though together is an ability worth generating

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Ability to reflect on the aging woman in green heeled ankle boots

So coiffed and attractive

Even as she popped her teeth back in as casual as another step

*

A most expressed action of love:

Forfeiture of the tastiest center of a Parisian pistachio chocolate pastry

I liken it to the marriage proposal I have not so secretly wanted

*

Tracking the moon and the dark skies gems

The shift unto light

Another balm

*

Another third of the month gone by

Conversations with the deceased in dreamtime

Offering the complement of elation to sorrow

*

Another dark moon love affair

Embodied renewal with each cycle’s promised return

*

Wheels turn

Spinning adventures of keys found in a railing lockbox

Attached to the bike rack in front of a shop in front of 15-17 Rue Ferdinand Duval

*

First times for everything

Within a biology that phases towards

Letting go

Twig by twig