Come In, She Said
My hair in the early evening light shining like scales.
Hello Beautifuls,
I am humbled and thrilled by the community gathering here, at each new subscriber and all of you who’ve been with me along the way.
When a new subscription comes in, I say your name out loud, a prayer of gratitude and seeing.
🌈Please ❤️ this post (and share or restack it) if you’re feeling it. I’d be grateful if you do.
When I posted my poem last week, I was asked to write more poems. This one has been working its way to the surface this week, so here you are, Lovelies.
My heart is more full (and not as broken as last week) at the beauty of Northern California. I am feeling more lucky and less foolish.
And what I wrote last week stands true: We know ourselves when know what we love—and allow ourselves to love it.
I still do not have the words to write an essay for you about this place and me in it, but soon. For now, a new poem.
Come in, she said.
I heard her
but sat still, the sun
warming
the bones underneath my skin
my hair
in the early evening light
shining
like scales.
Come in, she said.
The sound of her
a late night
kiss
on the back
of my neck
where the knobs of my spine
mound
softly.
Come in, she said.
Insistent, raspy
as if, in the time
she'd been
waiting
she had changed to fire
her breath
fast,
heavy,
rushing with longing.
Come in, she said.
I walked towards her.
She reached out,
and with what sounded
like laughter
surrounded me with
herself
took me in and gave me
all of her.
You came, she said.
A sigh of relief
wistful, relaxed.
I loved her with my whole body
for as long as I could,
pushed, pulled, swallowed.
Then I withdrew,
glistening
covered in water and salt
the sound of her breath
in my ear calling,
ceaseless
wave after wave.
Come back, she said.
As if our parting were real
As if she wasn’t the blood
and the marrow,
the intake
and the exhale,
of my mermaid heart.
A note on the writing and posting of this poem: This piece feels very vulnerable, the clear sensual, even sexual, tones made me think twice, three times, a dozen, about whether it was too much, whether it was uncomfortable, whether it would offend or make someone turn away. But then, I realized it is true. This is how I feel and if I don’t write and share what’s true, then what is the point? I deserve the truth and so do you. I am too old and tired for sugar coating this life and how much my heart aches and cleaves and rejoices at being here. I denied myself so many things in my first 52 years. No more, especially no more in what I write and share. There is no time for hiding.
Leaving you with a song that seems fitting.
I so appreciate your courage and transparency in sharing a piece so deeply vulnerable. It creates such a genuine space, and I resonate deeply with your reflection on the importance of writing what is true, even when it feels exposed. There is a power in that honesty, and I believe it fosters a rich understanding. Thank you for sharing your mermaid heart with us.
Simply gorgeous. Thank you so much.