So thankful there's a church in my neighborhood...

 This forest is my house of worship.  

I pray to the butterflies-

Plop wild blackberries on my tongue as the body of Christ,

& my own salty, sweet sweat dripping down my cheekbone to my lip, better than church wine,

Every pine needle is holy, a feather is a relic.



I visit once a week, and I am born anew.














Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Polyamory Day of Visibility Musings

 Recently, there was the Polyamory Day of Visibility and I was very aware of it, because one of my favorite facebook groups is MN Polyamory and they were hosting Polycon2023 that day.  I was bummed to miss it actually, and I was also invited to a Day of Visibility Rally in Oakland...I was up at the cabin next door to my parents' place, taking my kids tubing towed behind a jet ski, an important weekend getaway for my family and my parents.  But next year I would like to attend Polycon.  Despite not attending, just the presence of these two simultaneous events prompted me to reflect upon some things. I thought I was Ambiamorous, but I think I am naturally Polyamorous, and I am consenting to be in a closed dynamic for my spouse and I that is a V with my California partner who is open.  I feel that honors my relationship with my partner in California more.  I think it best describes how I experience magnetism towards folks too, while consciously and ethically c...
Read more

Winter

Image
 W inter has wrapped her icy fingers around Minnesota’s throat, Domme-ing us, Humbling us with a bite (!) how much she hurts.  Naked skin can be annihilated in an extended moment of her ethereal embrace, Ugh, the gorgeous seduction of rosy hued sun-snow-sparkle taunts me, With bated, small puffs of steamy breath, I wait for her aftercare, To melt the icicles off my eaves, and beckon me to play along her snowy curves… I’d most love to slip under the covers and cuddle, my love, as we watch the light of Spring return.
Read more