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Laughing Medusas

When I write, it's everything that we don't know we can be that is written out of me, without exclusions, without stipulation, and everything we will be calls us to the unflagging, intoxicating, unappeasable search for love. In one another we will never be lacking. ~Helene Cixous "The Laugh of the Medusa"

Wednesday, July 14, 2004

Whispers of You 

When the night's quiet creeps in and I have only my thoughts to distract me, I hear them. Whispers, ephemeral shards of you.

My memories are pleasant reassurances on hopeful evenings. My memories are painful ruminations of almost and not quite in hollow twilight hours. I dream of moments that never were. I feel caresses we didn't share. I taste kisses I yearned to take. But I would never steal from you.

The girl you saw in me, the one nobody else believed exists, misses you. She longs to hold you, to take you, to keep you. She dares to dream, but I do not dare to act.

All is not lost, they say.
Your time may yet come, they tempt.

I have neither the strength nor the desire to refute them. Instead I submit to them, as though they were you. They seep into my skin, kiss my troubled thoughts, calm my anxious mind, lead me into dreams.

And I sleep peacefully in their embrace.

~Asherah
posted  @ 8:52 PM

Tuesday, July 13, 2004

The Last 

porcelain teacup on my fingertips
sweet peach upon my lips
I oiled your rough soles
anointing each toe
with a soft little kiss
teardrops making pearls
upon my weary face
you groped in the darkness
to feel the wetness in my eyes
grabbed me so passionately
kissed at the tears
that they might dissipate

coffee handed to me
in the pale morning light
a hand I have come to recognize
a mouth that whispers
"Je t'aime"
into my hot burning ears
when you called upon the heavens
and spoke of us
"until the end of earthly time"
how my heart soared above
my every insecurity
content to be only yours
until the dying breath

- Adetoun
posted  @ 7:10 PM

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Lane Bryant