“Sexy does not come from the shape of a body, but the fire in a soul."
bungling burbling heart lead me to the field
where we know who we are: home
and where the water runs wild and free
bungling burbling heart lead me to the field
where we know we are home and where
every scent on the wind smells of what
we created and what dazzling orchestras
of humans and machines that we've had
the luck to lead and follow into just the
right spots, where fans dangle from ceilings
by thinly held rope like vines reaching
so far back we barely remember the feel
how fire can play, how we can get lost
in tall fields of grass by the library
how every zoo is an excuse to don an english
accent and be a tourist in summer with sticky legs
and hands that stick to your honda seat cushions
just like our tongues wagged in the air of midwest
highway breeze images may look closer than they
appear and there in that field you are. and i smile
and you smile and i nod and i hope you nod in response.
there's really no path nor should there be. there's no there
there. i don't know where this path goes, nor do i even know
where the last ones went. but i do know that with this path
i will carry love and will open to my skin to the possibility
of love, no matter how hard the doors might be glued
with fear, with failure, with regrets, i'll breathe into the cracks
and let them flourish until there is no between anymore
just me and there and all of it together.