#lokeanism

[mulberry-thief]

untitled

Crying out in pain for God,

throat too weak 

to form the sounds of the words. 

But He hears;

insect wings buzz wildly 

against the ceiling,

echoing back. 

Either keep me forgetting,

or drown the pain out with pleasure. 

I lie in a pose akin to surrender,

Heat in my hands, holding,

forgetting my own body,

becoming aware of Another.

[mulberry-thief]

a request for divine comedy

Hail Loki,

who lightens even the densest air

with a laugh and a wink

and a joke that would not impress your mother,

Accompany me as I embark

on this sinfully boring journey

whisper jokes into my ears–

the kind you’d hear on a middle school playground

While I don a disguise

of focus and ambition,

Please be a momentary distraction.

Allow me many quiet giggles,

but not so many that I drop my facade.

Spice up the mundane,

but just a touch.

A good seasoning is balanced,

so help me to savor it.

[mulberry-thief]

forest song

Each summer I thrust myself

deep into the woods

to lose myself and search for god–

not just one, but all of them,

infinite ones,

in the places no one looks for them

In holes of earth and in hollows of trees,

thorns and dandelion leaves;

in daytime darkness and dappled light,

and bugs you only see at night.

These gods have wings, 

and bark, and scales,

and spinners there for spinning tales,

in sneaking dusk and yawning dawn,

in a quiet forest song.

[mulberry-thief]

last day of summer

I drag my hands through dandelion whiskers

on the last day of summer–

tempt and taunt you,

engaged in a reciprocal strip tease of seasonal change.

My breath is warm,

and Your coolness catches on each fine hair.

You lift my whole body with ease.

I am so full of You,

tasting Your crisp autumn breath with each inhale– 

the familiar and comforting taste

of rotting organics, mixing and melding.

Breathing into each other, we are simply mimicking them.

I am left delightfully frosty, and You, gently sun-kissed.

Oh, show me what it is to indulge

in the cycles of the leaves,

to grow so close to one another

to live and change and die and release.

[mulberry-thief]

liberator

Hail Loki, Liberator,

calm and quick-witted

even in the most daunting moments.

Please watch over me: tell me You are there.

I call upon You

to remind me of my courage, so I may not forget it.

Remind me of my intelligence, so I may not forget it.

Remind me of my confidence, so I may not forget it.

Remind me of my power, so I may not forget it.

With You watching over me, may I remain collected

even in the face of my greatest fears.

I know my strength;

nothing I undertake is out of my control.

In Your eyes, I know I am capable.

Hail Loki,

reminder of our strength,

Liberator from our fears.

[mulberry-thief]

silvertongue

lend me some of the sheen of your tongue

so mine may be just as sharp

just as smooth and ice cold to the touch

inciting shivers that thrill and rush

through the somatic circuit

gentle and rough

shrouded in body and humid breathing

knuckles white

cheeks flushed

hand in hand and body on body

in rhythmic reciprocity

[mulberry-thief]

compulsive kissing

I hear You on my skin, 

Your susurration feels like insects 

devouring salty sweat from my pores. 

Use that sterling tongue of Yours

and show me how it's done:

every surface,

crevice,

lick me clean.

Prune my dying leaves;

nibble wherever You please.

Please. 

Please. 

The phosphenes have a tendency 

to take the shape of You

when my head is tilted back

awaiting the grip 

of Your lips and Your teeth at my neck 

or anywhere else. 

A hundred wet degrees and I have a fever too

but I crave the sweltering weight of Your heat signature

and the crescendo of Your pulse

pressing me into the pillows. 

Sometimes when I blow out the wick 

I want to bring my lips even closer,

close enough to kiss the flame.