grandfather clock

in my childhood home, a grandfather clock
watched over the living room
like a scottish grandmother
it rarely ticked, was never touched
but we all knew it was there, making time

one day, with laughter's legs and arms unwound
i collided with the monolith
of oak and glass and gears
the 'clism of time's death 
was like dynamite in a locked box

left without order, i smiled.
_______________________________________
he shut the door
and i lay on the floor
my body in pieces

my hand in chest
and i held my breast
what am i?

i reached within
and let passion begin
between my thighs

a wonderland
and i couldn't stand
that pleasure was mine

in final throws
and i deeply know
love is time.

lovers for love

Do you ever do this?  You sit down on the couch feeling like shit about your world come bedtime and then the guilt hits. Like, “there are people way worse off than you asshole – put on your big girl pants, find your happy, and get over your damn self.”  I just did that whole mantra right there and it wasn’t so great.

Now I'm wondering where you go in your limbo moments?  Cause I’ll tell you where I go – I look up old lovers on Facebook and see what they are up to.

Now, the self-empowered, rebel Julia will regret sharing this vulnerability with you.  But I think there is something here for us both.  When I am feeling scared, unsure, -- at odds, -- I find center staring into the faces of men I’ve fucked wholeheartedly.  Ok, so it’s actually just one guy (“faces” sounds more balanced and poetic) but honestly he is all I need. 

Stick with me.  This isn’t about a 30 something mom retreating into the hells of cyber nostalgia.  In fact, when I look into his dark eyes and thick smirk, I feel no sparkle in my groin or escapist desire for play.  But I do get excited.  I remember what it was like to march my ass onto a train eastbound and ride the zephyr wind with every bit of sex, power, selfhood, and femininity I embodied to freely gift to this chosen sir.  I remember what it was like to say to myself, -- yes, I deserve love -- hot, wild, across the country, passion for no reason other than to confirm my belief in love.  In myself.  And that love was freedom. Unbridled freedom.

Sometimes in my day to day, -- my kid’s cough, my partner’s absence, in big bills, work, daily chaos, changing schedules and monogamy I simply forget that love is freedom.  And I feel guilty because I am struggling to see love smiling at me in all I’ve built.  So I look at my old lover on that flat screen and say, hi there.  Hi love.  I am here.  You are too.  So I ask you as I ask me, how can we make love free right now as a 30 something?  How can we free up love in our lives – in the parts of our lives that aren’t sexy? -- How can I learn to look in the mirror and see what I find in the lines on his face?

I believe.  I love.  I am.  That’s the mantra I'm growing.