back from self-imposed exile… ha. ha. cry.

Funnily enough, I returned.

Not because my conviction was wrong.

Not because I was only ever being a ‘drama queen’ (think what you like)

Not because I necessarily think I ‘should’.

But because I felt like an outsider to my own life. Isolated from where my tribe live. the things that I thought leaving would heal … festered.

Because I left some of the light back there. And leaving it behind made me realize that light … its so vital. Right here .. right now. I need light. The darkness gets in whether I have a Facebook app or not (new truth) – but the light … that’s less predictable.

I do though, yes, feel like a failure (not a new truth).

I do though, yes, feel like I can fix that.

New mission … Spread Goodness. The virtual world needs it.

(Thank you Kirsty … for showing me options )

 

Patchwork Girls – A Poem.

 

Sometimes, what it feels to be a woman … Thanks for reading.

 

Patchwork Girls 

 

Only tiny tastes.

     Melt in the mouth but

never get stuck in His teeth.

A lick of lip.

A nipple may leak

 — nothing left beneath.

 

Cradle at night.

     If He calls but

we offer only fruit.

No bended knee.

This day she knows

 — to kneel is bittersweet.  

 

Feast unfolded.

     Save Him a touch of wine

to drip slowly through bathwater.

Sink circles.

Days discolor.

 — fullness forgets Her.

 

Sian Alexia.