Sometimes in the night I have the artistic dance with word-description-images that ping me. I’ve had a couple snippets pop up that I wanted to share. They are not related, but they’ve been hopping up and down on my mind and so I figure I’ll place them here, and maybe they’ll seed.
I am an elephant, trying for you to dance on teacups.
Am I not beautiful as my own natural largeness?
As he spoke words I couldn’t hear
His white gloved finger drew a chalk line
Down the center of my breastbone
My heart pulsing on the inside
His intention on the outside
He opened me up with the chalk
And ran his finger over my heart
It burned when he touched me
But he didn’t give a damn
About my rights
About the skin
He cut through to my heart
I still don’t know what he said
Knowing is deeper and more grounded
the very word comprised mostly of motion
the foundation of Knowing is something
you cannot fathom without work
it takes work to change a Knowing
it takes circumstance to change an Emotion.
I see a connection…