When we begin
\nthe feelings seem to rush at us like a tragedy–
\na thousand different
\nshattered pieces
\nall clamor for attention at the same time.
\nWe make these feelings solid:
\nthis pain in my neck,
\nthe unease in my shoulders,
\nthat weight of
\nI don’t know what to do,
\nthe sense that
\ntime is running out, and the
\nshock<\/p>\n
of discovering all this in my body.<\/p>\n
Even now,
\nI feel myself leaning towards you– murmuring things
\nabout things–anything it seems,
\nto get away from
\nthe strength of this noise.<\/p>\n
Eventually though
\nwe become exhausted
\nkeeping up with such assignments–
\ntracking who did what to us and what it means about
\nme to have such scars.
\nEventually, we grow tired even of indulging ourselves, and keeping such a vigilant watch over the way that time passes–
\nthe wrinkling of soft skin around the eyes, and every new shade of hair color.
\nWe become exhausted remembering
\nall these words for things,
\nassigning worth to concepts
\nas though we could
\nbuy our ways out of confusion,
\nas though we really could end suffering with a degree, or a drug.<\/p>\n
And when we have strained enough
\nwe forget.
\nIn a flash we discover the openness of space.
\nIn a moment
\nwe just are
\nbeings.<\/p>\n
It isn’t long before the heart beat
\nstarts to make sense again, though.
\nAnd I
\nquite naturally
\nyearn for the way I am certain
\nyour lips will fit over mine.
\nI crave the weight of your
\nbody in my arms
\nand the smooth expanse of your back against my breasts.<\/p>\n
The way the glow of the fire catches
\nthe lightening at your temples–
\nit begs for the trace of my fingertips,
\nand when I reach down to touch
\nthe earth
\nevery part of me is embraced<\/p>\n
in return.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
When we begin the feelings seem to rush at us like a tragedy– a thousand different shattered pieces all clamor for attention at the same time. We make these feelings solid: this pain in my neck, the unease in my shoulders, that weight of I don’t know what to do, the sense that time is […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-211","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.sterlingslyce.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/211","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.sterlingslyce.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.sterlingslyce.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.sterlingslyce.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.sterlingslyce.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=211"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"http:\/\/www.sterlingslyce.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/211\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":215,"href":"http:\/\/www.sterlingslyce.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/211\/revisions\/215"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.sterlingslyce.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=211"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.sterlingslyce.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=211"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.sterlingslyce.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=211"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}