https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y4AtbKVoRa0

"At night, when the sky is full of stars and the sea is still you get the wonderful sensation that you are floating in space." - Natalie Wood

The Venetian

Fake Plastic Trees

Blue Rain Stick

The peppermint oil on my wrists smells like a mixture of turpentine
and the hockey rink
and the way sprite tasted from the movie theater in the 90s.

In the hot tub with beer and incense,
the smoke curls over lids
the bubbles shhhhhh together
like a torrential rain in the deep forest
like the edge of a waterfalls end boiling cold 

my body feels invisible in the heat

my earrings float
on the surface of the water
little droplets puddle on top
illuminating silver carvings
in the moon light

I found five stones in the bottom of the pool
I picked them up with my toes

1: selenite wand for charging crystals after they've been cleared
2: cleared black tourmaline resting
3: blue obsidian, rose quartz and black tourmaline charged with intention for dispelling psychosis and feelings of disorientation.

This was specifically set for all of the people in my life and in the world fighting addiction, depression, suicidal thoughts, malaise, self hatred, trauma induced mental symptoms, mental illness, and low self esteem. I know what it is like to be there. I have been feeling it very heavy. Peppermint oil, lavender oil, and smudging with palo santo help. All negative extensions have no place here, they do not enter here. Darkness wields absolutely no power here, ZERO. It is banished and completely obliterated. This is a place of powerful rich bright light, nothing get through it. 

A Room Through a Circle

A quiet field
is covered in a blanket of thick snow.

It is puffy like the sides of a white down comforter
hanging over the edge of the bed
on sunday morning

yet the surface is as crisp as ice
dusted with bits of sparkling snow-
they radiate 
like programmed lights on a synthesizer
in the moonlight.

It will crack like crème brûlée

with the slightest tap of a boot.





The field stretches out
a grand russian ballroom
with walls made of trees
and a ceiling of
swirling watercolor

aurora borealis 
  

I dance through it barefoot -

a body draped in yellow gauze and chiffon
scattering freshly torn leaves of eucalyptus

I polish the silvers spoons-
at the dining table
gather them up in my apron
the screen door creaks
I throw them into the night air-
they spin for a moment there suspended.

starlight traverses their shining surfaces
it stretches over the precious metal
like headlights
on a long road in the dark. 
 
In the fan aisle at the grocery store
I stand by myself in the wind.
the blue placards on the shelves wobble
the packages hanging from hooks sway
like saloon signs 
I close my eyes
let the hum drown out the rest.

I smell a bonfire
and the loose feeling of clothes
drenched in the smoke

running in the dark through the dunes
bits of sticks cracking
leaves shuffling like paper.



A flower grows through a hole
in the tarp
of an abandoned tent

green leaves fall in slow motion.