New Moon Vexations

I am vexed.  I am under the new moon like some kind of seeping knowing in my skin.   I’m feeling revolutionary, shout it to the crowds to wake it up, rub the eyes, and flick the sleep out.  I am on the edge of the churning wheel.  At least I’ve made it there from the middle.  Soon, at the moment that it eases its swirl just slightly, I will jump off and be centered inside the outer circle, where I long to be.

I am away from the average with not a care of a thought shot my way.  I am wearing colors because they please me, taking visual pictures that remind me of my beauty, feeling shameless and pure, undone and comfortably me.  I hear thoughts as they pass me, and they make me smile.   I see questions on their faces. I send them the answers with my eyes.

I feel faster, striving towards perfection.  I watch my futures doing great things.  I am skating sideways on the iceberg, stopping just before the drop.   I feel hope beyond what I can measure, immense joy that overwhelms me, emotions that fill me and make my spirit do tangos, waltzes and sorrowful ballet.  

I have heirs.  They are apparent.  They spread my face with laughter, and make me long for their baby days so we could be hippies all over again.   I have so much emotion swirling inside of me on this moonless night, that my thighs are alive with the depth of it.  

Dance with me.  Lean flesh to flesh beneath the midnight where the diamonds drop in spirals towards our gazing eyes.   Let us touch lips beneath the lunar mist until our skin is alive with energy.  I speak to no one, yet I speak to all.  I sing in silence, yet the spirits listen.   I am emotionally immersed in the realness of all that is breathing, and I am compelled to surrender.

These are where the footsteps walk, where the path leads, standing at the crossroad, my thighs against the briar bush, and I push past the herd into the open expansion of road.  Gone with the whispers, to escape for hours, sorting through your intent, making symbols in the ashes.