The need to be laid bare is palpable. To be fully naked,
exposed and disposed of all secrets,
a tabula rasa erased of all gibberish that holds me in the recesses.
As if the more dark the places are aired out, the more I can breathe.
To eviserate myself so I don’t wither and disappear into the dust without leaving our footprints;
to flay the skin and lay my soul unfurled.
To be witnessed, to not be in my beingness alone, unseen again.
To see my vulnerability
To know my real courage
To know me, see me
intimately. Without fear in the face of unknown and evolution.
To see as much mud as magnificence,
Capable of bringing the stardust,
starlight to the darkest places of
the most walled off heart.
To know the power of wakening Sleeping Giants and Buffalo
embodied in the breath, to be exchanged between lips and piercing tongue.
To know that the soft skin
gives way to an undefended heart,
an eternal fire whose
flames lick the heart of Man.
Because to be touched by love, desire, and grace
as much as by violence and the violations of others’ sanctified space.
Those things that are remembered and released
To be replenished by goodness and mercy and beauty and light and the
ultimate ecstasy of lover and loving.