All in Wildness
I look out at lusty blue on blue of horizon, past where I saw a whole fox, tail still fluffy, fire orange fur, frozen solid in deep winter,
as hard as questions in my head’s hollow, “How? How is this possible?” No answer- the round reality that each day dispenses
loses its flavor after minutes flat. Yet the magic!! cracks open, loud Loud frozen water.
Poetry penned after listening to fabulous episode of ‘Bedroom Eyes’ podcast (an intimate analysis of agency, ethics, relationships, and identity as experienced within oppressive systems of power hosted by badAss brown, queer, non-monogamous community organizer Juno Mariah) about autonomous relating- a not so distant moon of relationship anarchy.
“What you thought was the sound of the deer drinking
at the base of the ravine was not their soft tongues
entering the water but my Love tying my bow tie.”
Yikes! I stumbled upon otter sex off the gulf coast of Florida last month totally high after watching a pod of dolphins swim by as I did yoga on the beach. Makes me muse on what a strange year it’s been to be a sexual being. Identify as Poly. Practice queering the world with pleasure, writing, and love.
Thanks to a decade plus of dedication to my writing life, I now understand timing, materials needed, and spaces that serve my craft best. Ultimately it’s the balance between absence and presence. Slow Love Lake Superior is what I call the approach to loving the person/ people/places/practices I do ‘slowly and with quiet, steady pleasure’.