Nefarious Aquarius

sitting in a knot fraying, taught, winding loops holding each other down and aside and away a patience-found absolution picking fingers, brow wrinkled freedom is only one stairstep wound upon a spool just in twine to begin

raking the earth

I'm in a city.  I don't know where, it feels like the new york you see in movies.  I'm heading down a stairwell somewhere below, maybe a subway?  I see a friend who I thought I'd never see again, and even here I lack an immediate sense of confrontation and divert my eyes left and hope he doesn't see me having seen him.  There is a detail there, a flooded stairway down even further, but the water is clear and well lit.  I grasp onto actual curiosity of what is going on over there.  Then there is a hand on my shoulder and some words?  "Oh, they'll figure it out." was the gist of it.  We walk a bit where this problem isn't and I'm glad to see him, concerned, but also I know he's out and walking to get back into things.  He had trouble walking when he was alive.  Now it just feels like he's getting used to his legs again.  There are more words or feelings or intentions but they are lost.  All I could remember was that there was some talking.  Then I wake.  I realize by the angle of an arm on my shoulder of a person who I glanced at before turning away was just way too tall.  He remains out of sight except for a hand over my left shoulder and a feeling of walking somewhere in tandem.  I felt small, or young, and I'm not a small person in the waking world.  I wonder where this new giant was going.  I don't get these dreams often.  They are a soft light pushing through spaces that feel lightly purposed.  It washes out the sadness and leaves me with the desire to write it all down before it all pours through the fingers of my mind.  Goodbye for now old friend.  Perhaps we will meet again some day.

you dance within

a light cutting through darkness The bones that run beneath like truth Warmth and softness when they are needed most A sip of tea, the wafting scent of freshly baked things smiling words tumbling from curled lips twist it all up and you'll find it a little place, a tangle of joy accidentally intentional I built it for us but mostly me Sorry but also Not

Always they talk of the heart as where love lives. Why, then, when it is most true, do we feel it in our bones.

little fish little fish you've swallowed all the light that ever was and possibly might be but I'm OK because In this moment here you circle endlessly

I am a very serious person.

We bargain with demons for power. Inner demons.

love is a cube of sugar dropped in to a cup of tea at first you can see the six white sides of sugar pressed solid as time goes on it vanishes from view but the taste will always be a secret unmistakable sweetness

Once when I was young I was told that saying 'I Love You' too much would render the words dull and without impact, like a sensation experienced too many times. Now that I am more the person I was meant to become I see that each utterance piles upon itself in a great heap until the gravity of it all collapses and ignites into a brilliant shining thing. It makes a very big difference if these words are empty or if they are soaked in sentiment.  A vessel left out in the rain.

Our lives intertwined with each other