awakenings

one night
when you’re sitting at a bar
twirling your straw through the melting ice
in a really, really bad
grapefruit martini
(that you can’t believe you ordered
but force yourself to drink anyway
because eight dollars is too much
to waste)
and you’re lost in thought,

you look over your shoulder
and see that someone
has come to talk to you
and although you have never seen her
before earlier that same night
(when you noticed her across the room
with her friends
and then again later dancing)
when you look in her eyes
you get that nagging feeling
that maybe, just maybe
you’ve already met.

or if that sounds rather too cheesy
to be believed,
at the very least
you want to prolong the moment
and see where this might lead
so before you leave
you seek her out
and give her your number
(because she had asked earlier
and you didn’t want the opportunity
to pass you by)

and when she puts her arm around you
and leans in close
to be heard over the pounding dance music
you feel a shiver of something…
that you cannot yet name
but that you know you want to explore
(you will later recognize it as the
deep contentment that you always
feel when you are with her)

and then
a few days later,
with no call or text
you enter another bar on the other side of town
(on a first date with another girl, as a matter of fact)
and you see her right away
against the bar, laughing with her friends
and your heart skips a beat.
(because hearts are never afraid to embrace
the cliché and predictable
the way that their owners often are)

and you know that
even though it seems like incredibly poor form
to approach her while your date awaits
that you will have to make contact
before you leave
(because serendipity is a wonderful thing
and such coincidences should never be ignored)
and so you go to the bar
for a drink of water
and you stand right next to her
(with a heightened awareness of
proximity that should likely
have served as a warning
of what was to come)

and you find out that she has your number
correctly in her phone
except for one missing digit
making it utterly useless as a means of connection
and so you add a very, very important number 4
(perhaps the most important number 4 ever,
only time will tell)
and leave with a sense that
something important might just be brewing.

and thus begins
a whirlwind
a chaotic
eyes closed, mind open
heart opening, opening, opening
totally consuming
kind of whirlwind
(so consuming that you’re only just now
coming up for air now to write about it)
and you find that within mere weeks
you (who was so sure she wanted nothing
to do with relationships, or exclusivity, or anything
that remotely sounded like commitment)
have lost your desire
to make new connections,
or even to further ones already begun.

and you are in that giddy place
that infatuation place
that crushing, blushing, so-crazy-into-her place
that preoccupies your thoughts
and steals your breath from time to time.
(because your lungs are not afraid
to embrace cliché or predictable either)
and you spent hours learning about each other
(except she didn’t have to learn anything really,
about your body because she knew all there was to know
from the very first moment of contact
in a deeper, more profound way
than perhaps anyone ever has).

and there was a point when you knew
without a doubt,
that you were in trouble here
and that this girl was not going to fit
nicely and neatly into your plans
for uncommitted dating and emotional detachment.
(because although it totally messed with your intention
to play the field,
you realized quickly that you had no idea
how to casually date her)

maybe it was when she asked
which flowers were your favorite
so she could surprise you with them
on some random moment
or maybe it was the texts she sent
that made you smile in the middle
of your craziest days
or maybe it was the way her golden brown eyes
seem to be able to see right into your soul
so that you communicate
from across the room without saying
a single word.

it might have also been
the kisses that held a million promises
or the way you could fall into a deep sleep in her arms
escaping the wretched insomnia
that had tortured you for months
or the way her touch made your back arch
off the bed
it might have been the emotions that arose
unbidden, in spite of the fact that this
was not the best timing
(for either of you really,
logistics are truly a bitch)
and in spite of all your attempts to deny them
and even though you didn’t trust their
reality or validity.

and although
it made no sense
and it was way too fast
and you feel like someone changed
all the plans
when you weren’t paying attention
you choose the freefall anyway
(as if you really had any choice in the matter)
you stopped fighting the inevitable
(although both of you made an impressive effort)
you accepted the risk
and embraced the exhilaration
and you closed your eyes to the safe
and the slow
and the sensible

and even though you always
laughed condescendingly at people
who (just a month or so after meeting)
want to be together all the time
and who walk around making goo-goo eyes at one another
and who are generally sickeningly sweet
in their total absorption in one another
you find yourself becoming one of them
in spite of yourself.
and yeah, you know that this is all rather ridiculous
and cheesy as hell,
and maybe a little bit annoying even
(because lets be honest,
when it’s somebody else, it usually is)
and that (of course) this might just be
the thrill of early days
and the passion and intensity might just burn out
when the haze of infatuation
finally lifts
you know this, but you really don’t care
(or, at the very least,
you choose not to give it any real attention)

you choose to ignore it all
because falling
is such
an achingly lovely
feeling
(especially when you know
you have a soft place
to land)

This is what it was like for me, the first time.

the ocean

when I asked
what it was
like
to know a
woman
my dear one
replied
with infinite
wisdom,
“it is like
the ocean”
…..

and I
was
rolling and,
spinning and,
holding
the air
in my
lungs
so I would
not drown

eyes shut
but
mind open
under
and
over
and over
again

waves crashed
hard
and soft
on me.
and I
rode them
to
shore
floated
blissfully free
while tethered to
her.

clarity in
disorientation
the touch of
water
on my
skin
the feel of
heat
on her
breath
the sound of
desire
in
us
and all
around.

diving
and surfacing
above
and below
sounds and light
filtered
through want
and need
from far away
and from
right here

right.
here.

and right
now.

and then
she
touched me
there

there

right there

in that place
beneath the surface
and I gasped
and was
filled
with
rushing water
the power
of the current
taking me
places
I had
not yet been
but wanted
to stay.

I felt the
insatiable
pull of the
tides
gravity and rotation
legs
intertwined
hands
clasped
bodies
with no
spaces
in between.

I was
dizzy
because I
could not find
air
I tasted
salt
on her
skin
and I thought,
my soul
already
knows this
place

because
I am from
the
ocean.

I am
at home
in this
water
in this
sea
in the vast
emptiness
and fullness.
and softness
of these limbs
of this skin
of this moment

floating
weightless
but
falling
just
the
same.

And like the ocean
it was wise
and it was powerful
and it was beyond
my control
and it was strong
and it was gentle
and it was everything
and nothing.

It was
like
the
ocean.

This is not an ode to any one particular woman, but to all women who love women. Enjoy.

[This is what I listened to while I wrote this, so of course I think you should listen to it while you read it. One of the sexiest songs ever.]

there is something
about a woman

something about the way
my hand slides
along the smooth curve between
her ribs and her hips
and settles along her waist
and curves around to the small of
her back
to pull her closer

something about the way
our lips meet
and pull away
and electricity pulses
and our eyes connect
to share a million secrets
and hands become entangled in hair
and bodies fit against one another
like pieces of a puzzle

something about the softness
and the firmness
and the perfect alignment
of parts
and about that magic spot
right
on the inside of
her hip bone

there is something about the
familiarity
of intimately knowing what
and where and how
and why
it all works
and that, in our shared feminine experience
there is undeniable connection

something about the
the way we meet as equals
and the safety of
exploration
and the vulnerability of
opening
and the freedom of
surrendering
and the bliss of
coming back to earth in
her arms

something about the feel of her arms and legs
intertwined with mine.
and the sound of her
voice in my ear
husky with desire
like the wind, or the waves
or a lullaby
before falling asleep.

there is something about
the way my body reacts
whole, instantaneous
passion awakened
need overtaking
and spiraling
and roaring
in my ears, in my heart
and in my very soul
till I am dizzy with my yearning for
her

and, oh yes
there is something about
the way friction becomes
something far more exquisite
than I ever fathomed when I was
sitting in physics class.

and there is certainly something
about the heat and the sweat
and the sound of her ecstasy
as she climbs and crashes
and the way she moves
inside of me
and of reaching down to feel
the slickness and wetness
of our desires
mingling together
and the almost unbearable
sweetness of the rhythm of moving
as one
and the scent of her on me
surprising me when I least
expect it.

something about the way there
is no ending or beginning
just the endless experience of
being
something about the stopping and starting
and whispering and laughing
and traveling to the edge,
and back
and back again.

yes.
There is something about a woman.

Tonight we worked together
He hung the blinds
while I washed the walls

Together

We talked and we joked
And enjoyed comfortable silence
And took breaks to check our email

Together

We got the room ready
Cleared the floor
Discussed furniture placement

Together

We small talked about music
And whether or not he could make it to the gym before it closed
And when I would take my shower

Together

We moved in the new mattresses
Stretched the sheets across the bed
Laid down side by side to test it for comfort

Together

We were partners tonight
Just as we have been for almost 11 years
We’ve done almost everything,

Together

But tonight
I’ll go to bed in my new bed
In my new room

Alone.

and I came across a slice of wisdom that said
‘you were never not going to be here’
and it was right
this was as inevitable as the tides
as the shift of seasons
as the cycle of life and death

my whole life I have been spiraling
toward this point
and I no more had a choice about reaching this
than I did about being born into this body
or craving the taste of dark chocolate melting liquid on my tongue
or having azure eyes that see more
than I can ever comprehend.

it seems so clear now.
i wonder how I didn’t always know.
but of course I always knew.
didn’t I?

i knew it somewhere
in my deepest depths
and hidden thoughts
and ignored dreams.

i knew that I would belong here
in the arms of a woman
softness against softness
nestled curve against curve
warmth against warmth
breath against breath
flowing endlessly together into the long, long night.

Yes.
it was as inevitable as night following day
as letters forming words
as the rising of the sun.
as the heady free fall of love
as the force of change itself

it was as if the universe exhaled and things slid into place
like the mechanism inside a lock when you find the right key.
and the way my muscles feel after a long massage
when the ache subsides and my body relaxes
and fills up it’s rightful space
and says yes
oh yes.
this is how I am meant to feel, to move, to exist.
this is how I am meant to be.
without tension or pretense or that nagging feeling that I should be someplace else.
or someone else.

just here.
just now.
just this.

yes.
it was inevitable.
i was never not going to be here.

there is much to
learn
and so far to go

and so I am steping
boldly
into this new life

boldy, yes
but not without fear
and certianly not
without grief

and there is pain

yes, there is pain
and there are days
when I am consumed by loss
and I want to pull the covers
of life
around my head
and sit in darkness
with my demons
instead of trying to escape
the knowledge
of what precious life
I have relenquished
to the wild ether

but there is hope
there must always be
hope
and there are days
when I spiral on hope
spiral to infinity and back again
with my breath
or her touch
or your words
or the sound of the raindrops hitting my window
as if life just goes on
or because life just goes on

And so I take a breath
and I breathe again
and again and again
filling my lungs and heart and soul
with hope
because my life depends on it

because the center
of life,
mine and yours,
is always breath

and each day I choose
to unwrap my battered
heart
one more time
and one more time again
and to hold it out
palms upturned
and I make a fragile offering
of my heart to the world.

and so I stand
as naked as I have ever
been
with my breath
and my heart
and my grief
and my loss
and my fear
and my pain
and my hope

and with myself

with so much less
but possibly so much more
than before

and I remind myself to take
just one step
and to breathe just one breath

and I think that maybe
just maybe

I can do this.