there was a time ....
when i was content to be suzy-chapstick-shortcake
all butterflies & pink
frosted & pretty
polished & shiny-like
as the chrome on that 1958 beige rambler
that sits idle in that driveway there .
there ....
perfect & forgotten
smelling like my mother's tabu & pendelton sweater
pearls & bonanza all wrapped up like a present ...
your present
waiting to ferment,
simmered .
age does that....
this time
today
now
i am gypsy-crazy
intently wandering for something dark & blue
my core of pierced truth
draped in broken fragments of my eternal pixie-vision
to desire
to stand awash in the blood, bone & breath of all that has come before
and all that lingers
pulsing beyond the borders of
this knowing
this time ...
awaiting only my own blossoming
of dragon-blood fire thick & ethereal as an approaching thunderstorm
whirling
learning
growing
reaching
not content
not pink
but tangled in blues & greys ,,,
yearning into the far empty corners of my want
gypsy-crazy
as i intently desire .....
wakefulness
