Jen Juice

The quantitative algorithms flicker in the background–
Like honking geese vibrating through a ripple of broken tendencies.
I find myself still…wanting to run….her, the lonely traveler – her soft and rigid embrace.

Ever wonder what it would be like to go to the furthest side of the earth to remove…
All you have ever known? Well, yeah, me too….
Funny, thing is you really never forget, and running really never gets you anywhere, but–
Further from yourself than you were. And, further than you want to BE.

So, where is that you (I) want to be? In my own skin…where do I begin? With me.
The lonely sin. I don’t believe in.
My love gone and buried. Or, is that just fear locked away in my head?
The parallels…the bottomless questions of not wanting to sit still.
Terrified of the vulnerability, yet laying leg-splayed opening up to
Every inch of myself…and, her fingertips tip-toeing through my naked skinned being….
Her mind – the bold and so profound liquid movements. I crawl. I come – hither. She whispers.
Come home…