Heart of Papillon

Young girl that I was, with the heart of Papillon

My grandfather showed me the movie

He showed me many things in this world

Like how to sit on his lap while he drove his big truck

Like how to be absolutely silent when I wanted to scream

But I was Papillon too! Indignant and determined!

Believing that I deserved freedom

That my term would come to an end

Believing in escape and a water baptism to shores and life anew

Little girl was I, you bastard

And I’m still here



I reached out from the fertile crest and spread my legs while I gyrated and heaved, spilling man upon man onto the shore.

They climbed my limbs to sleep and whittled at my branches as they grew restless.

My sisters took to the wind like mischief wanting to play. My sisters with their fragrant blooms. My sisters and their love dreams weaving in and out of Time’s tapestry. My sisters and their burning sex.

They enticed the men into the tall grasses, and multiplied all manner of humanity across the surface of the world.


Sufi death prayer

Where I came from is where I am going
Where I came from is where I am going
Inna lillahi wa inna ilaihi rajioon
Bless my spirit
Bless my body
As we part
My book has reached its final chapter
Let me end it with beautiful words
My hope is in the Most Merciful
Receive me
When next I see, let me see You
My joy and satisfaction is in the Eternal
When next I feel, let me feel You
Grace covers me
Love lifts me up
My book has reached its final chapter
Let me end it with beautiful words
To those I leave behind
Do not grieve or suffer long
Take up the work of this world with pure hearts
Let Kindness be your Truth
As my book closes in on itself
Let me smile, and speak beautiful words
Thank you Creator for this life
Go in Peace with Mercy and Compassion


A golden thread connects my heart to yours

Inside our secret skins

Magic stitched us together

I travel back in time

Following strands of memory

Get stuck in tangles that loop throughout eternity

Some mighty powerful voodoo

I cut the bindings to free myself

But they come alive and fuse again – stronger

I run away and weave a new life

But find not enough mystical metaphor to convince me twice

And without connection, cannot feel the fabric of myself at all

Either I’m cut, or I’m bound

Crushing seashells

Knees hit the sand with a thud and a crunch

Nimble fingers and palms gathering and crushing seashells

Making a pile of perfect, coarse white dust

And we haven’t considered an end, neither economic gain

We are girls at the busy work of play

Sod House

I grew up pressed into the damp firmament of our sod house

With roots wrapped round my toes at night

In sleep, the soil pulling

Inhale and exhale earth

Dank and bone cold embrace

Grassy bed, leafy bed

In dreams I’m still there

Eternally in the dirt of my origins



Strange how the dream comforts

You still show up in my dreams

I saw the paper with your name on it and the day’s date

Evidence, you’ve been sneaking back into my house

And you nearly got away again

But I ran outside and caught you

Holding the jacket fibers, pulling you close

Head on your shoulder, tears on your shoulder

Your hand on my head, whispering

“Don’t cry, don’t cry. I’m fine.”

Strange how the dream comforts

I wake feeling gentle, relieved

Signs of your visit linger on my cheeks

And in the corners of my eyes