Swallow

Some poems get swallowed whole by sleep

Like dreams that only my mind’s eye keeps

Some men want to know if I am a virgin

What version of virgin would you like to explore

I tend not to count the non-consensual or the bisexual encounters

I don’t count quantity, I feel out quality

If you feel me, you know

I say yes with silence and with my own lips and with the parting of my hips like the red sea

Amidst it all I hope you see me

I performed ancestral energy healing ceremonies on stage in a dream last night

I blew fluffy airborne dandelion seeds with my mind

A soft breeze blew one seed down my own throat

All the magic in the world is not as powerful as heartfelt truth

Perhaps this is where the next phase of my spiritual growth starts

A continuum of all that has come before

I spent most of my life swallowed by severe anxiety and depression, flung from one extreme of bipolar to the other without ever letting on about my inner experiences to anyone.

I am damn hopeful that I will crack this seed open and blossom because I feel growing pains and I feel the Earth below and the Sky above.

Though I sometimes forget it, I am made of Love

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