Deep Heat Diary (Patreon)

When the moon came to me on May 26 I remembered.

She confronted me with mutual understanding; held me safe and challenged.

A maternal reprimand, gentle & firm.

Why are you acting like a child of the sun? Why are you trying to be right?

Who do you think you are?

What are you trying to prove?

Are you not an artist?

Fertility punctures the collective psyche like a blade that feels oh, so good.

Sun out, bodies arching, burning with delight, tiny brown babies in the park ripe for kidnapping. Tongues uttering forevers for the first time, sex outside of wedlock for the sacred purpose.

I watch everyone that matters buckle their knees in pleasure, surprised by the wave of change.

It comes for me too.

My mouth, my business. Yours? Mine too.

& none of it is for them.

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[You Are Not A Gadget, Jaron Lanier, 2010]

[Conversations with James Baldwin, 1989]

[The Jewels, Les Fleurs du Mal, Charles Baudelaire, 1857]

They invited me to join them and I said yes because I'm not special.

I taste the heat and try to be normal, but inevitably end up being myself instead.

Too intense, utterly socially inept, incapable of tact. I'm told I redeem myself through being me.

Haven't you heard? The goodness of "being me" is open for debate.

The jury deliberates, the scales tip towards justice, I am just along for the ride.

Heart at home, feet in the swimming pool, mind seven steps ahead.

I meet who I need to meet. I do what I need to do.

Foreign gives a big familiar hug.

Defunctland and I argue endlessly while agreeing on everything.

Lindsay agrees we should talk more.

Maggie is sunlight.

+

...

And now you've seen Los Angeles too.

[Lost Olive's earring. Damn.]

In the soft inescapable light of a FaceTime call I'm asked to let go of everything.

Assume all of your ideas wrong and your performance is not that which makes you worthy.

What? Then why do you...?

...

?

What else is there...?

.

---------------------------------_---

Predictably, on cue, I am humbled.

I have to change again, so I do.

I lower my expectations. They're not getting me anywhere anyways.

What have you got to show for your year of labour? Lots internally. Not enough for them.

I think of the feeling of making my brother laugh. That. Just like that.

Get back to that.

+

It's not complicated, it's just enough.

I love yous leap off my lips like baby birds out their nest.

Thank you for making me wait. I'm ready now.

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