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Written in Skin (Poetry) [Feb. 2nd, 2009|06:12 pm]
Amazon Fiction

[Tags|, , ]
[mood |creative]
[music |The Children of the Revolution - Moulin Rouge Soundtrack]

So I had the chance to etch words into someone's skin the other day.
I've decided that I rather like doing this -- hey, I'm a writer and a wordsmith, and I definitely have an interest in cutting people up. So this works for me. ;-)

Anyway - as so many things do, this got me thinking about how I could do this with/to my primary partner (I spent a few minutes over my brand-spanking-new lunch-break figuring out how to write in ambulance-speak so that words writting across her chest, for example, would be readable in a mirror) and the following poem-ette resulted:

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Written In Skin

Maybe you're afraid to believe
someone could love you
to believe that
anyone could see beyond the social
always up for a fuck
and love what's really there

but i have

i do

and i want
to open you up
lift that beating heart
in my two hands
press kisses into you
so deep
that you can't deny
the truth of them

i want to take up scalple
awl and needle
etch it into your skin
so deep
that you know this
in your bones:

my darling

strong and

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Like a White Stone AND I Live In Hope (Poetry) [Jan. 26th, 2009|04:21 pm]
Amazon Fiction

[Tags|, ]
[mood |lonelylonely]
[music |Wild Horses - Natasha Beddingfield]

Like a White Stone

If I give you my love
this white stone lifted
from the depths
of my internal sea (desire mingled with affection, currents of fascination mixed with comfort)

Will you take it
solid and tangible
in your two hands
and drop it
into the well of your own heart?

Will you take it
for all that the ripples of its passage
will never leave you alone?


I Live in Hope

Hope is a house
Its wide bay windows look out
On lush gardens
Trees heavy with pears and persimmons lean
low over deep pools (every one a wishing well)

Hope is a house
Its garden unfenced
Its library filled with books that all begin:
When I grow up, I want to be…
With this ring I thee…

Hope is a house
Its larder full
The scent of chai and the sound of music, faintly stir the air
Where sunlight catches floating motes of dust

I live in hope,
This quiet house
Of books and tea and the clock’s
tock tick
in the hall

my footsteps echo
and I hope
I will not remain
alone in this house
where anything can happen
and nothing ever does
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Cadence (Perfect) -- A Poem [Jan. 4th, 2009|08:16 pm]
Amazon Fiction

[Tags|, ]
[mood |thoughtfulthoughtful]
[music |At Last -- Etta James]

Cadence (Perfect)

If I am your Dominant
You must be the key
by-which I set my life

Your voice
the place
where my heart
finds its anchor

Your pleasure-pain cry
the note
that gives me form
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Tongues (Poetry) [Jan. 3rd, 2009|11:28 am]
Amazon Fiction

[Tags|, ]
[mood |thoughtfulthoughtful]
[music |Your Song - Christian ("Moulin Rouge" Soundtrack)]


I can’t speak

you ask me what I want and
my tongue
locks up

desire courses,
hot, under skin
a river moving under ice

but my tongue is frozen

my mouth is more certain, kissing yours
than whispering my wants

come closer

my hands will show you
how they ache for your skin

my lips
will claim the kiss
they long to give
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Atlantic and Court (Poetry) [Jan. 3rd, 2009|11:03 am]
Amazon Fiction

[Tags|, ]
[mood |scaredscared]
[music |If I Had a Hammer - Peter, Paul and Mary]

Atlantic and Court

somewhere you're sleeping
curled on cold concrete
no lock between you
and the new york night

i'm here
wrapped in blankets
heat cranked in every room
candles burning
on the altar of courage

but i don't feel safe

and i can't


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Two more. Read (and written) at Umi Cafe, Dec. 12th, 2008. [Dec. 12th, 2008|11:00 pm]
Amazon Fiction

[Tags|, , ]
[mood |sleepysleepy]
[music |Lady Marmalade - Moulin Rouge Soundtrack]

Amazing Grace

Grace was old in Babylon
When the world turned
On the axis of her ankle
(when jewel-spangled hips caught fire
light in temple and caravanserai)

In Venice, she went underground
Named herself ‘artist’, not ‘priestess’
Wore pearls despite the prohibition
(audacious in the face of laws
that tried to brand her “wicked”
when she was anything but)

In frontier towns
She offered
scented with jasmine
as Sister of Mercy


Grace was old in Babylon,
But the world still spins
on the axis of her ankle
She makes those platform heels
look easy
(jewel-spangled hips still catching the light)

In clubs and apartments
on stages and street corners
Grace checks her lipstick
and smiles at the mirror:


And still




I wish you could see yourself
The way that I see you

That you could look in the mirror, and see
beauty incarnate
not something unfinished,
in need of perfecting

it’s not that I don’t understand,
that I’ve never looked a my own reflection and seen
only heavy jaw
flat cheekbones

that I’ve never wished my image looked
a little bit different.
A little more like a model
A little less like me

But you


so beautiful

Your strong bones and
Sharp features make you so.

I wish
You could see yourself
The way that I see you

You would
Want to change
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Poetry! [Dec. 12th, 2008|08:47 am]
Amazon Fiction

[Tags|, ]
[mood |thoughtfulthoughtful]
[music |Kiss the Rain]


Your voice on the line
is fractured
(could be static
could be sadness)

You’re asking me to
sing to you

My voice creaks
rusty with sleep
(wanting water)

I swallow
and search

For a song



Can you hear me?
There’s static on the line
and I know
you’re in a basement

I’m grateful
for every minute that we have

Can you hear me?
Your voice is shaking
I’m aching
to hold you,
rock you
and make you safe again


Can you hear me?
Can you feel my arms around you?

Can the warmth of my voice
(humming Judy Garland)
take the place of my warm body
curled into yours?


Just a little longer

My heart is right beside you
though we are miles apart
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More Selkie Poetry [Nov. 14th, 2008|10:43 am]
Amazon Fiction

[Tags|, ]

In the Bath, Remembering

I spend long hours in the bath
Door locked against the world
And him

This water is scalding
Scented with roses
Not the icy flow,
Salt and chill,
I know
From years ago

But my buoyed body
In flesh
The ocean’s cradle,
Wave-washed touch
And play,
As steam curls
Above my head
And hot water swirls
‘round my hips


Not Enough?

I walk the shoreline
One unwebbed foot in front of the other
Walking without aim and with
only anger
To guide me.

He has stolen my skin

Was it not enough that I said yes
Folded my second self into a chest
Showed his world my pleasing human face

Was it not enough that I left
the ocean

For him


Fading (Out of Time)

I thought I was you wife
Partner of greatness

Not so

I am a hooked fish
trapped animal

Club me, why don’t you?
At least that’d leave marks.
Something I could see in the mirror
When I try to see where I left



I spend whole days
On the shore
Following the tide lines
Towards the horizon.

Wind whips my skin
That I bare where he
Can’t see me

But that nagging voice
The thought of his reproachful eyes
Call me home again
When the sun starts to sink

I arrive
Skirts damp from the rising tide
To meet his questions
his silence

Plucked from the beach
Turn to boulders and
Burdened with the weight of his gaze
I turn shoreward, longing for the wind and the waves

These four walls
Are not my home


Quick Sand

I thought I could save my self
Spread out my weight,
Don’t move

I thought I could stop sinking
If I just stopped


Only makes you sink



Comments & Con. Crit. are always wonderful.
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Selkie Poems [Nov. 12th, 2008|10:48 am]
Amazon Fiction

[Tags|, ]

Hope Chest

Skin folded
Like some strange stand-in for
table cloth
or bedspread

I put it away
Tucked into a chest
Like hope
For the future
(another day to come)

I slipped my broad feet into
Little white shoes
Covered my dark head
With a veil

Trappings for his family

He knew
What I was

When I came
Bare and beaming
To my bridal bed

He knew what I was

What I am



I never pretend

Never lie
to his family
or to him

that this curvy body never knew
another form

that these long limbs
were never flippers

that this creamy skin
was never stone
with ocean brine

I never pretend
I don’t miss it

That, when the seals bark
On the shore
I turn my head
My dark eyes betraying me

I never pretend,
heart lightened by lies,
that it doesn’t bother him

to see the truth

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Live Truly, My Heart: Part 36 [Sep. 4th, 2008|11:25 am]
Amazon Fiction

[Tags|, ]
[music |Holly, Ivy and Yew -- Heather Dale ("The Road to Santiago")]

This is Trinity's story - AU due to a whole bunch of stuff, but mostly because of her getting unplugged in '1995' rather than in '1987'.

Enjoy! :-D

Part One: Real
Part Two: Search and Rescue
Part Three: The Oracle Speaks
Part Four: Revelations
Part Five: Half of Her Heart
Part Six: Batteries
Part Seven: Life Goes On
Part Eight: Shattered Flight
Part Nine: Truth Be Told
Part Ten: Goodbye, My Friend
Part Eleven: Two Steps Forward, One Step Back
Part Twelve: Negotiations
Part Thirteen: Out of Order
Part Fourteen: Getting In
Part Fifteen: Getting Out
Part Sixteen: Breathe
Part Seventeen: Walls and Doorways
Part Eighteen: Know Thyself
Part Nineteen: Hope and Dread
Part Twenty: Come Together
Part Twenty One: Fire, Water, Earth
Part Twenty Two: Afterglow
Part Twenty-Three: Different Kinds of Trust
Part Twenty Four: Outfoxed
Part Twenty Five: Enter the Seeker
Part Twenty Six: Cravings
Part Twenty Seven: Coming Home
Part Twenty Eight: Quick Change
Part Twenty Nine: Practice Makes Perfect
Part Thirty: Conversations
Part Thirty One: Getting Ideas
Part Thirty Two: Chiaroscuro
Part Thirty Three: Game Night
Part Thirty Four: Wire Tap
Part Thirty Five: Aftermath

Title: Live Truly, My Heart
Fandom: The Matrix
Characters: Trinity, Switch, Cypher, mention of Neo, Morepheus.
Pairings: Trinity/Switch
Rating: PG13. If that.
Author's note: This me be twiddled and/or added-to over the next week or so. Also note: this chapter is set about a year and a half before M1.

Part Thirty Six: The Things We KnowCollapse )


Comments would be *wonderful*! :-D
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