Crown me light queen. Lights!
Above my head, wavy, wild mane
Light up from inside.
Crown me queen of light – a post mortem. (That’s a theme today.)
Hemingway said writing is simple like bleeding.
Then let me bleed here with my pencil.
Let me tell you how I was stuck in infinity hanging by some part of me,
While the rest of my biology made its way through days, doctors things, nights, dreams, my heart and stampede mind – chorusing through my senses, unite unite!
Unite the pieces I suppose. I fell off a wall like a Humpty Dumpty – but if you don’t try to fly, you’ll always sit on the wall.
The kings horses and men did help put me back together again. Women too.
I was reborn and raised by wolves. Reborn again and raised now by who? Perhaps by me.
How do I step into a broken world – perhaps like I step into my broken heart, like it’s a long form dance. Tip toe then leap, then surrender. Then some kind of love.
Maybe the worlds not broken but either way we can still dance on it and make some better kind of love.
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