Enthusiasm

I can write when happy too you know

I can feel the words drip from my lips to the

finger tips of my enthusiasm

It comes in waves like all

other things and I hold on tight

to the me I see in lost future.

Her head held high through all she was

that I am now.

She knows the value of this lesson already

She waits for me to get it

she waits for me

to accept happy and I tell her…

I can be happy too you know

Let it in me, be me, around me, I can

write it in the sand from the thoughts that drip from my lips to the

finger tips of my enthusiasm.

Image

Mud

Let us not loose our minds.

Let us know we are the stars children, created to dance in the colors we choose to flail about.

Let us not let our eyes roll back in ecstasy only alone in the room of closet.

Let us release and love the outburst that is us.

Let it be more colorful than beige.

Bland.

All color taken out.

Let it sear the skin and make all things seem inevitable.

Let the pleasure dry the mouth and moisten the hips.

Allowing the swerve of the curve of your lip to rest on the knee.

Tickle the insides of me.

Let us not loose our minds in the desert of doubt the plantation more raped than pleasured.

Let us breathe in the sweet smell of delicate encounters chipped by desire.

Let us not reflect like glass yet soak up like earth.

Allowing the moisture to turn us to mud.

Feet swollen with ache in fun.

Ache in romance.

Ache in acting.

Ache in painting.

Ache in laughter.

No ache in heart. Leave ache of heart in the land of bland.

Give in.

Give stand and. . . well. . . dance.