The Unspoken Trust

I am empty
and full.


The space inside is warm and quiet
and the breeze upon my cheekbone
is your breath.


I choose this now,
with you,
through hard pavement
and timing disconnect.


I am not presenting anything to

skin, ruffle, release, engage, exhale.


I come to expand
and find new ways to fit in
find new shoes to put on
find the layers peeling off.

I come to settle
and have somebody see me,
be me,
whisper their needs to me.

I come to lay upon the earth
bones twisting down
and the sound of you drumming me home.
No, this is not presentation.

I am not hidden

Am not performing as separate, clothed
eyes trapped by darkness
and bright white teeth.

There is no pretend here . . .


I am practice,
right here, right now.

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