so soft are the edges
that boil and slide
inside the copper
a sweet fragrance
like sugar or moist tobacco
begging your tongue
to heat it
to bravely risk stringent addiction
tasting and….
moving
like a wild snake
coiling intelligence
looping and falling
willing
to swell in gravy waves
grasping the rim like a mouth
or fingers
to wander like an octopus
free my heart
to wild and gilded
overflow….
perhaps so hot it will fall through
unwelcome molten love
thickly sweating holes
into things
you thought were real
Silver Poetry 
I don’t know how you do that. Create that burning progression and then end on a turn that leaves some kind of endless echo. One made of molten love.
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its like something stirs in me and begs to be released and I feel words to describe my inner world. THEN, something does happen , like a question or a slap…. so I suppose I spring back to an awareness or even anger or something…. you perceive through the shower of emotion very well
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Your voice is painfully real to me. It speaks like it’s in my ear or something. Shivers most of the time.
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I think that’s because you let me in. I let you in also. when words are allowed to slide beneath the surface, they start to tinker with our soul… it causes an awakening. little bits get burned like things coming in from outer space
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I’m glad for it. Very glad.
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Reading this again. Melting. Feeling. being okay. Being brave. Loving.
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thank you for reading again… (my pot simmered and swayed…) it is being okay with the wild Lilith, the destructive hands, huge and hot. for me its inside myself for others its in the woman who rears naked and swollen before them… being okay with her, strong and brave enough to withstand the fear of being consumed or exploded into a thousand suns
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Still melting. I will never not read you.
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As always brilliant words and art.
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x thanks x
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