Open

I study the way water caresses the shore, the gentle pulse and pull. No thought, just free movement.

The crash of chaos turned soft, like wrapping yourself in a white cotton sheet fresh from the line, cooled by strong summer winds. Fueled by dragonfly wings.

I watch the maps the water creates, a cartographer leaving tales of currents and fresh rain. An old sea.

Open to the sheer beauty, the truth of time and the look in my ancestors’ eyes, how they visit me in dreams. How easily I overlook such meaning. Lost.

It’s become easier to close myself, to bury in earth and walls than to wind toward the sun, trusting growth.

Open like tears that flow down my face each time I hear Moonlight Sonata. The way Beethoven or a forest floor, a waterfall, holding my son’s hand, a bed of ferns just feels like home to me.That kind of beauty, inherent and vulnerable, young yet a lifetime, a library of memories.

A trail of fear lies behind, boxes and parts of me strewn across the country. I return each time, to this shore looking across state borders, always looking west, mountains lining the horizon. Lost in sunsets.

I want to feel the stillness, the calm within the storm. Forget about before or after. Stop trying to determine my own future. Just flow. Water washing over my toes. This simple silent beauty. A quiet connection to it all.

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Slow Heat

It’s a slow heat. The kind that pushes you into the earth. A warmth that takes you back decades where summer was endless and each day became a week, where you played until your eyes fell shut, heavy and full of wonder.

A heat that makes languid limbs, stretched like swaying branches. Strawberry lips, blackberry kisses and water that washes over you. Soft and deliberate like a lover’s touch.

Enveloping your pores, cooling hot thighs, toes digging in the sand. Sweat drips thick like honey. 

Irresponsible heat that makes you forget what day it is. That forces you to play like a child. The kind of heat that reignites attraction, that brings bodies together, sunkissed skin, sticky and sweet.

A heat that oppresses you, calling you out of walls, climbing in windows, whispering to you in the night…come play, come dance and melt and drip with me…and you obey. Your body saunters. Hot flow. You are a servant of summer.