sidenote: this is a blog entry of mine from today. instead of comments on my words, i ask that you offer me an entry from your journal or blog. or offer me some of your thoughts on your life as a woman or man or writer or lover or whomever/whatever you define yourself as.

give me a random memory. a vent. a confession. a snap shoot of your current life. anything of YOU. the rawest of you. please.

lets carry a conversation.

if you have a question about something below...ask.
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06/28/04

loving jezebel.

i was once a fictional character. lost in the paragraph of someone's memoirs. willing to be a soft pause in any self titled artist's poem.

wanting to be molded into art. hoping they/he would be liberal with their shaping of my hips and sway back. give me more than god spared. make beautiful of me. so i could fit into my name.

the gold plated unfulfilled destiny that lie between my collar bone.

i was searching.

yearning to find inspiration in the creases of the lines in masculine palms. tracing my fingers across their life and love lines to leave evidence of my existence. i was most alive when i was in love. vibrant. the sun's light outlined my shadow. love was my life's silver lining.

and with the after sex scent sweated into pores of cotton sheets and cocoa buttered slightly perfect brown skin, i claimed my trophy.

triumphed with my hips. poured glasses of passion between my breasts so it could slide effortlessly down my stomach and into the cup of my womanhood.

my secret weapon i kept between pages of astrology books under my bed.

a water sign that never sweats. saving every drip for eager lovers to toss pennies in & make wishes.

my energy was godly. rise and fall of hips. making eyes moan. and teeth ache.

shape shifter i became in bedrooms.

my pupils enlarged so vain lovers could make love to their reflection. my breasts would swell to offer second wombs to oedipus rex's grandsons. my grip would tighten for napoleons' ego. my moans would become back up singers for musicians.

& they never understood why they needed me again. why their fingers dialed my number before they could realize who they were calling. they couldn'tdetected the taste of kava i dusted on my tongue. drunken village kings, i made them.

men who were superheros, or bore children, or snuck jesus bandaids in past lives.

men who wanted to save.

pisces just being pisces.

capicorns who lived for tradition.

taurus who got used to me in their habitual living.

sagittarius who made it their mission to change me.

they've become my chapbook of lovers. the glow in the dark cheap plastic stars i arranged (and rearranged) into the pattern of my sky.

i loved them.

loved how i loved them.

found life lessons tucked like lint in the mess of their hair.

found missing pieces of myself in them. behind their knee caps. along the arch of their feet. underneath their nail beds. on the fine hairs on the back of their necks.

"even a fool drops jewels." he once said.

and i am building an empire of their loose gems.

i'm a jezebel in queens clothing.

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