I woke up to a sunset sky.
These days the northern hemisphere moves from grey into deep red and pink sunset and we wake up to darkness and new beginnings.
What novel truths lie there, in our inner most dwellings, where the dirt is damp and deep and rich in nutrients? A tender space where we practice intimacy and vulnerability and softer ways of speaking to ourselves and those around us. I need practice, I’m rusty. The softest words I know were handed to me by other beings.
Here are soft words, an offering back to the inner worlds that want so desperately to come out into the open. We need not hide.
Stable isn’t enough. The fields are ours to dance in.
Or if we let Q dictate:
“a meadow door opens
into improper love”
With care,
Sarah.
where do we go from here?
Tempo broke
cloaked believers into shattered beginnings reminding us again that there are moments before requirements when
space and kinship are held out
as doubts benefit from our need for each other
Where we believe in each other beyond
disappointment and into wondering if maybe next time we can try something different
Listening for acceptance in between the kind tickling and laughter
Holding our breath for the moment when air is abundant and time is not constrained,
We fled to be able to stay and now staying makes us miss marks points and home is a panicked haphazard sonnet
Beautiful but sensitive to after shocks -
adapt or quit and then adapt when they
find and try to move us
Where do we go to ride this shit out?
——
‘cause i forgot about you or me awhile ago
ages have passed me by hanging out with you
and we went everywhere we could look up to see
jumped in their anything we would experience and
got lost in thoughts until you were beside me in thinking
when i fell behind you continued holding onto us we made
decisions because we did not learn what i learned from experience
talked over in conversations where listening easily replaced hearing
when being felt was misunderstood by our words and you were
untouchable and so leaves in fall’s breathe escape our grasp
while kissing our cheeks flushed with hope
where do we remember us?
Upper & lowercase: Sarah Bitamazire
case [in]sensitive: quincéy.xavier
film: Alexandria Clair
