tiger lilies in a vase, words in a circle, our soul-paths criss and cross, weaving together starseeds fit for planting. my brain is a chemical soup, reacting and changing with this sweet smell, that story, it's words dragging corpses, relatives, pets and ideas from hall closets.
her lips quiver and i forgot what i was thinking, what i was going to say, what i know about life and love and good choices.
choices -that's all i've got, but i didn't choose my parents, my family, where i was born, what i look like - sorry - i don't mean to offend any karma huggers. and i don't choose who smells good, who is pleasing to the eye, who heats up the room, who i fall in love with either. i do choose where i take my socks off, and whose foot i rub up against, but not who takes the night ferry and visits once the candle has burned out. and even with choice i often feel possessed, drunk on some glandular cocktail whose tentacles infiltrate reason and maturity, overriding the system, flooding me with if it feels good do it, and let's get down tonight.
sometimes i just want to follow the spark, see where it lands and let the fire burn, let it burn down labels and compartments, players in their parts, burn away the book's binding, letting the pages fall into piles.
i fall in love in small doses, or all at once, on the dance floor, or at a movie, beside or between. am i the only one who can see the body-paint, iridescent turquoise on your neck just below your earlobe, a fortune without a cookie, "take me i'm yours"?
sometimes i choose not to choose. i turn from the spark (is that mine?), and saunter away as nonchalantly as eager and obsessed can saunter, biting down on my lower lip ever so slightly.
do i need a polyamorous pollyanna, or just the freedom to feel what i feel, to acknowledge the spark and the possibilities that it ignites? should i seek the waters at their source, or buy bottled water from italy? should i try to run my hands through her hair, or stay here with admire and inspire? do i have the courage to be a free spirit, to own my passions and speak true, to live with the choices i make for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, until my last breath?