Mid-chore, Momma pauses to peek over the loft railing and tight-chested with breath held watches child's hand sliding open-palmed down the long-haired back of a small, trusting dog who knows what it is to be pinched, pulled, bitten, and pushed to the floor by pushing-28 pounds of love. "Good job!" Momma says, and child smiles up. "Gentle! Good!" Child's arm slides over dog's back and Momma's shoulders lean over railing. "Gentle! Great job! Gentle!" Momma says, envisioning a trip to the ER for a dog-nip to the face. Dog sits quietly and child hugs. Gently. Child releases hug and smiles up at Momma. Dog slips away, shakes, and wanders behind the couch. Momma descends with praise, inwardly screaming, "Huzzah! Woot woot hooray!" Boy-and-his-dog moment successfully had.

Inside I feel I could have been a dancer, or maybe sometimes I have been. I have had that kind of letting go, and I remember.

It's only lightning along my skin the touch the bliss breaking in A feather kiss blossom of palm Seething silent slipped inside taste of impossible I breathe along

Fumbling Until

One side step away from completely stunned brushing up against that window hoping if I push just a little harder the placenta will burst and I can finally pulse back in time. My heart never understands why we can't just go and when it sits there and stares defiantly at me gasping like a lousy fucking fish what can I do but pull the raw edges of the gash until the corners tear, grab the biggest sharpest salt crystals and grind them in deep grimacing with satisfaction as a pain I can control cuts me clean through.

sunset on skis

I can share it with you perhaps because your not listening won't be felt and you cannot interrupt me or look bored in any way that I can see, this my first sunset on the ski lift, the hopping off and effortlessly powerful gliding down before unstopped copper hills the departing light snaked up swirling peach melba colors through hugging grey clouds, misty rays stretching reaching shooting out the top and us quietly gliding by. The beauty, I want the beauty but to share;heartstopping things, blissful things that stay for life, things that stay inside and come up again to make you smile in the unsuspecting moments. They just are not as good kept to oneself. Beautiful things, the glee that quivers your legs with the need to jump and bulges your throat with a shout, the songs that open new ideas and demand reminiscence, the hopes that come and the dreams we need, the aspirations and inspirations we pass along and along to one another- these things were made to share. These things come to us for being given on again.

TKO

Lying in bed stirring from a late afternoon nap with two dogs posed like a double exposure I thought again of your staccato breathing hugging me goodbye this weekend and had to roll over to absorb the memory that knocked the breath from me- sensory loaded images of growling, biting, howling bodies. I think when we came together we held the power to break the world apart.