I am in limbo waiting for the shoe, not to drop, but to be placed upon my naked ankle informing me of my next life. Where will I find myself this time? I am always surprised when I arrive, not unscathed but still intact my feet dancing to the sounds the voices, the drums…
Author: thelayersoflove18
Inauguration Day
The requirement to go inward, truly look, see yourself; this is what the pandemic has pronounced upon the heads of the people of the earth. The reaction to this pronouncement has varied widely – many have died, even more suffer and struggle and there is an entire “wing of the world” which has denied its…
Celebration of Immunity, Exposure and the Tempering of My Love with Fire
The water is still, the breeze cool within the sun’s warmth watching them traipse by displaying physical and energetic form in a loving embrace of her body so circular, smooth like the petal of the flower picked a thousand times in my daughter’s liquid hands appreciation far beyond desire, her nearness to perfection brushes my…
The Dark Room
The room is dark, darker than I remember it being, ever. It is if all the lights have been extinguished; not even the glow of a digital clock remains. Or am I still in the dream? Or waking up from the dream – my dead father speaking to me, his voice unfamiliar. I shift my…
What If
What if it’s all a lie everything I ever hoped for, wanted my belief in the higher beauty sweetness that makes you want to cry What if that is something that humans cannot be or understand because we are lost to ourselves and even when we try we are still lost to ourselves This lack…
It’s Nothing
I want to live. Not just survive, but to thrive. I want to drive my organic spontaneously combustible Igo-nomic, biodegradable, 100% natural human machine. Lean, keen, emotional emotion human machine. That’s 100% biodegradable no jive Done Nothing though maybe.. surely… something will happen
Entering the Temple of the Deer
Step 1: The Conjuring Pen So still in the night I await your presence, curtains drawn, I peek between the cracks. Asleep or awake, I do not know which one. I hear your breathing; it nestles up to me on my pillow, this breath, allowing entrance into some private spot. Wanting you. “For what…
Falling Inside
Each day I find myself further away than the previous the society we once knew ripe for upheaval we turn to dust as it crumbles around us splintered now I see more clearly between the cracks elated to find the opening before me yet lamenting the restrictions of my form the inability – no matter…
Poetry and Music – Growth
This video was created for the online New Orleans Poetry Festival 2020. Music and video by Bitsyras. Poetry and whistling by the layers of love.
South Cloverdale
The late afternoon sun still shines with force on the long Northwest summer day, illuminating the sleepy buildings of what was once the center of a bustling neighborhood. The main street was the historical center and the buildings are old for the young city, 1930’s brick storefronts, in a state of disrepair. A Mexican grocery…
The Layers of Love 