Self Love

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If I were to speak to you

the way I speak to Spirit

 

(with song, spilling

flames and leaves and wind and seas

from lips red with

lipstick and love)

 

I imagine you would grin

or gaze at me in wonder;

delighted confusion,

at worst.

 

Why do I hold back?

What keeps me from

unleashing

the torrents of

sensual sacredness

that moves through my bones?

 

Baby, if respect, if

being liked means

hiding my priestess voice

from the ears of

my tamed peers –

what example am I setting

for the wild child

I’ve birthed?

 

Honey love, tear my masks

to shreds, with cajoling love songs

and tender touches and

belly-laughs in the dead of night.

Don’t let me

hide behind fear and anger,

regret and despair.

 

Remind me that

I walk in a body

of moonlight and wildfire,

and that the world longs

for my spontaneous song.

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This poem appears in my second poetry compilation Cycles, which will be out June 2018. My first compilation, Reveries, was self-published on lulu.com in 2016.

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