xxyy,o

The body seems a bit shook

by mighty messages in rivers

could such a weight in tidiest concentric ties

be blessed to carry the vain images of angels

could they know the utter joy of children laughing

the primal power in one breath

while present in the chassis

could they know the quartz of finger tips in the hair

the subtle moons produced by blushing ear lobes

fornicating in the vivid quiet

 

-Sabrina

Advertisements

Milk, sand + sugar

I have decided to commit myself to designing. For every structure must be a reason, a purpose. Below is the beginning the RNA of a new structure entitled:

Milk, sand + sugar: a Warm Invitation to be Held…

He said break my heart. A warriors heart is tender, a warriors heart is not safe from sound. A sound being a carrier of pressure a means of displacement, knocking, touching, rolling, and caressing you from your place of comfort. Comfort, in this case, a place to hide from darkness.

Mother. I calk forth mother and nurturing father. Light and darkness , void and what is known. Milk, sand + sugar. If you find yourself in this replica of a hug from them that cherish thier children and my interpretation of what it looks like. Built, crafted, arisen from what comes in visions and lighted by flames of inspiration. Then you have touched or witnessed being held. I am one past puberty and embrace tantra. Flow, organic, nurture, love making, relax., and dreaming meets releasing, cleansing, vulnerability, and trust. This is the blended stew suckling on creativities portion of milk. Ancient as sand, stimulated by sugar.

_ Suddenly designing structures meant confessing its intention and why it would be beautiful to have the living erected