Thank You for Loving Me /(All)/

"the true lovers do not wish to love--
                              they just fall into grace, four eyes blind,
                    wishing to die--

 but at the end, when the journey begins,
                             they are more than fine;
                   they transcend"


~M .A. R




New beginnings begged by the new moon on 1/11, 1.1.1, the beginning of number sequences writhing and supine, snakes and the phallic bud burst forth from the dark, primordial, fungal dirt.

Here todos goes.

I have a waking wish: hope. "Hope is a waking dream."

I bring even stronger and more intentioned Love into this first New moon of the quantified year.

When my mind quiets I pray. I am overcome with gratitude and excitement for newness of myriad form. Infinite form.

Bjork's All is Full of Love

and 

Sinead O'Conner's Thank You For Hearing Me

Perfection, so imperfect and vulnerable. I am going for what I want. The shame slips off 'round my small and long bodice like a many-eyed patterned snake skin.

 I am clear now, about what I want.  Much rumination and experientiality to get to this point. A lot of fear I dug through and sat in, frustrated festering. 

Propulsions forth now, damn babed phoenix chick chirpin' blindly in and out and around.

The butterfly and the frog make love in a distant future reflection I feel in my sleep. 

Everything is a lyric.

LOVE,

.M.

A

R