The little deaths Winter brings; To ride them out 'til it's warm again, this is the task. The water is raging under this house on stilts. The rain is chipping away at all the vulnerable and thirsty things. Am I safe inside this box, kept warm by power that isn’t mine? Am I really secure … Continue reading Winter’s Little Death
I. The sun peeks through hazy sky and she looks beautiful in grey and gold. She is like that sun persisting through the blanket of clouds that threaten a distant storm but haven't gathered enough water yet, not today. She is not striving to rule the sky, and she can't see it yet, but she … Continue reading The Sleepy Sun and Her Starry Friend
Welcome to The Flipside, to The Upside Down. Here, everything is as it should be. Here, we live inside dark clouds. There is no sun in here, no days full of light. Here the shadows are more than echoes of a past we try to fight. Here there is no floor firm under your feet. … Continue reading The Upside Down
We try so hard to individuate, differentiate, emancipate. “Please don’t let me become like you,” we say. And she cuts her hair, like I did at twelve and sixteen, and so many more times to keep myself alone in my tower, and to scare away all the princes. Sometimes one is simply more comfortable with … Continue reading The Night Queen in Daylight
In a pastel early morning sky today the moon was still silver and lingering. She was just letting us know she was not quite finished calling up the waters in our blood and tissues, begging the moisture in our skin to percolate and dance on our surfaces with the luminous air infused by her pregnancy- … Continue reading Blooming Moon
I. My body is a microcosm of the earth, raging against invasion, depletion, destruction. Scars are blocking my guts, like damming up the Amazon River when 70% of our medicines come from the jungle it feeds. Some things just need to flow or the world suffers. Tribes have survived deep inside the forest, keeping the … Continue reading Life Giver (Pacha Mamma Gives Birth)
Vultures pick the wounds clean. Clarity comes through whispering trees. I am still, and listening. Copyright © 2018, Sheyorah Aossi Art: Stillness by Joyce Huntington.
There is a hum of electricity whenever we are close. It is warm, and familiar and makes such a pretty sound. No matter how either one of us is feeling, the voltage sings softly to our atoms and to our spirits when we touch, reminding us of home. Your stress has its own current. My … Continue reading Starseed Love Story
I. Being shocked to the core of me, my veins feel hollow - space conducting electricty, fleshless, ungrounded. The sounds whirl and collapse in my head, like a circle of dominos folding under water. My hands suffer, unstable. Words fail, distant. I am taken away from myself, whittled down by ruthless invadors. They won’t stop … Continue reading Alien
It puts you out of touch with everything. And it's not as if you don't comprehend what is happening, either. That would be a blessing. But no, it's more as if there is no buffer to soften in-coming shattered glass and shrapnel, all forming a pile front-and-center in your head. You see it. It's too … Continue reading Shapeshifter (A Confessional)
