carrying the honey in my tummy need to build a home, need to lace a comb race against time finding the sweetness to survive
in this time of salt

yes, what a thrill to be assaulted by your true desires
and yes, to feel. it is beautiful to feel.

and to move from such a life monastic and of doing without
having sacrificed,, the clutter, the confusion, even the glamor, the gold
to bare bones practicality
the structure to keep you walking
please, no frilly thing to distract.
time spent teasing out the knots, tedious and trying
to find those special dew drops
those soft white magnolias
that curl in your palm
to reawaken the grace of your imagination
the beauty of style
and the importance of things called your own