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Lick salt from my lips,

feel the soft breeze and strong waves —

and know the ocean.

...and maybe with each

generation there can be

a little less pain.

Wear your wounds with pride.

Scar tissue makes you stronger —

gold fills in your cracks.

Or maybe you just

need to sit awhile and breathe

in more of yourself.

I sank deeper still,

the sea embracing my soul,

and I forgave you.

Lace up your tall boots,

step into this wild journey,

and always pack light

Darling, don’t despair —

what is dark will be light soon.

Trust the moon’s orbit.

Nose to the screen I

swallowed my lukewarm coffee —

wishing it was wine.

The lotus from mud,

a rainbow after a storm —

grace will always come.

Though I know darkness,

that doesn’t mean I have to

keep visiting it.

She may be messy,

but at least you know her heart —

and what makes it beat.

As It Should Be

Oh, those perfect nights —

where every word spoken flows into the next,

connecting and building a glistening web

that we fall into.

And tongues are free

and hearts are forward

and souls are open

and there are so many stars in the sky that you remember

you are nothing.

And everything.

And it’s exactly as it should be.


Back To Me

 Things that bring me back to me

{a partial list}:

Clean skin in clean sheets.

An open night sky…

Rolling out my sea blue yoga mat;

coffee at sunrise

and wine at sunset.

Crashing waves and the smell of salt —

a long deep talk,

a long deep sleep.



Hunter Moon

I stood on my porch

looking at the hunter moon

and wondering how many women

before me looked at this moon

felt its soft glow seep into their skin

felt a shift in their bellies

their blood

their heart

and understood

they belong to something grand


Skin Needs

my skin needs

Warmth — safe and embracing.

my skin needs

Sunshine — invigorating and penetrating.

my skin needs

Softness — to be reminded.

my skin needs

Your Touch — to be home.


Today I Am Strong

 Today I am strong.

Not a declaration,

but a feeling.

a quiet truth.  

Strong enough to enjoy the cold morning rain with my dog beside me.

Strong enough to tell my friend, "I am okay" — and mean it.

Strong enough that my bones no longer ache and the watermelon-sized hole in my stomach shrinks to a lime.

(Pregnant women should not be the only ones who get to compare internal happenings to fruit.)

Strong enough to be excited,

to work, to produce, to engage,

to BE.

Strong enough to have hope (The thing with wings? Or maybe too much coffee).

Strong enough to block the knife from driving into my heart, as it likes to do a few times each day.

(Today its cut is only skin-deep.)

Today I am strong.

Strong enough to be terrified that this feeling will fade soon,

leaving me crushed

too full but also too empty.

And I wonder

am I actually strong,

or am I ignoring my reality?

Is it okay to feel okay?

Is it okay to believe that I AM strong?

Because all I know is that today

I feel strong.

May I Always

May I always

walk barefoot on hot sand,

hold my breath and go deep deep under the blue waves

until my lungs scream.

May I always

move until my muscles yell mercy

then stretch out on a soft clean bed, knowing that sleep is safe and mine.

May I always

feel butterflies for what’s to come

and peace and gratitude for what’s been

while living just in this moment.

May I always

know myself

and if I lose her — 

understand how to find my way back.