Ride

He smelled good to me, so I wanted to taste,
put him in my mouth,
while light softly glowed through green curtains
then, his moss eyes. He didn’t know what I was thinking.
It was Sunday, so time was short.
Soon I would be thinking about Monday
and my lousy job.

I played lotto and lost again.
If I had money, I’d own my own parking spot,
a driveway. I didn’t think I could be so selfish
but I really like space.

I could just leave the city and look at the sky.
I could ride a red bicycle with recycled
plastic ribbons on the handlebars
and not think of people as I watch
treetops and clouds cutting through blue.

If I turned up at your door with a long
but true story
Would you invite me in?
Or would you notice I’d lost my childhood fat
like our friendship, and block the threshold
thinking you know all about
my skin and bones

© 2005


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Holly hails from an illustrious lineage of fortune tellers, yogis, folk healers, troubadours and poets of the fine and mystical arts. Shape-shifting Tantric Siren of the Lunar Mysteries, she surfs the ebbs and flows of the multiverse on the Pure Sound of Creation. Her alchemy is Sacred Folly — revolutionary transformation through Love, deep play, Beauty, and music.

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