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Just a Tourist
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Burnt Blue
'I dwell in Possibility.' – Emily Dickinson
crazy dreaming woman hammers endlessly on the doors of heaven open handed – exiled dreams, red iron sweat soaked sheets and the silkiness of this home made from Love.
the worship plate sits by the courtyard door. the woman who lives inside waits and waits bells tied to her ankles.
Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com in her hand the smooth green apple of insatiable longing. in her heart the foam edge of a cresting wave. and the frost pattern borderline of spirit melts in her burnt blue noonday heat.
Telling the beads on the talisman I call 'my life' I kneel down at the boundary of her dreaming possibilities.
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