It broke open.
It had broken up long ago, yet hope remained a word laced with meaning, described and comprehended.
I could give it a thousand different names, a dozen shades of detail, sum it up and craft a whole out of equally vague parts, yet the fact remains
that little exists beyond projections oozing from the ego.
that the suffering is the desire is the craving for the hunger for something to enter and create an equally illusory concept called happiness.
that the changing will occur when you are wishing for it least.
that it will hurt.
that it will stagnate.
that it will change again with great velocity and immense unpredictability.

I have been growing like an ingrown hair.
Burned out on the negative energy of hungry ghosts,
my own tapping me on the back of my teeth.
Now sing as delicate creatures of great strength do sing;
warble like a glass doll come to life underwater.

same as it ever was it the weather
that turns the icy heart to liquid trepidation?
i caught you on the fly, it was hard to hold
steady, the sun is ready to scoop you up
in to the crevice where joy is.
linger here long, for i’ve found a way out-
it lies in, inside the pocket where hope is.
don’t you know me by now?

the sun is rising my heart is pounding
fast- love is an ocean and desire but waves.

deep like wine and red,
i can’t tell you what i said
or who did what, where and when.
just the feeling of depth reaching in.

the heart has broken open, cracked free.
and the sun, and the sun…
it got the best of me.

to be comfortable in my skin!
what an exotic concept.
to tune out, tap in,
to pay attention
my heart an extension of mind
my mind an extension of is.

tasteful. playful. full.