After Gabrielle Calvocoressi & Jenn Dessert

After Gabrielle Calvocoressi &

Jenn Dessert

“On my knees, Ananda”

Miss you.

Would love to walk the dogs with you,

over the bridge

and past the horse stables.

Don’t care about the weather,

or who sees us.

I’ll walk any pace,

wear a mask,

keep you safe.

Miss you.

Would love to hear that belly laugh again-

a day on my couch,

like blackberries

& and a good downpour;

Stare at you,

while you talk on the telephone,

twirl the cord,

feel your tones and syllables

play hopscotch on my lap;

Enter me.

Miss you.

Would love to drink coffee with you,

mix my Black Opium with your salty everything;

make split pea soup together,

buy sunflowers at the supermarket;

show you a proper downward dog,

watch you hang a shade perhaps,

the way your hands hold a thing,

make it fit just so;

I want to lie on our backs real close &

talk about the moon, and sore knees,

Dharmas and possibility,

pomegranates & Persephone;

Miss you.

Would love to lace fingers,

and wrap legs;

hold weight,

and promise

and Magic

and every last thing-

with you,

until your hot breath is at my neck;

sweat, like a river;

singsong like a prayer-

and it’s A Reckoning-

Wild, but Sure-

a déjà vu we memorize-

again and

again and

again.

Miss you.

Wish you.

Wish you could say:

“good morning my love,”

with a close whisper,

sunlight at my back,

Your mouth at my shoulder,

or anywhere,

every morning,

any morning.

Wish you.

Wish you were not just in my heart

and skin

and mind

and marrow

and soul

and dreams

and poems

and pocket,

But right here-

now-

this moment,

head on my thighs,

eyelashes, cheeks,

my fingers twirling to the root of you;

Or in the woods…

Yes-You

& my wish come true:

Lips & tongues

& breath & Trees

& More & More

You-

kissing us back in time,

to just our time,

sacred and rebellious,

where I’m always your witch,

and you are always just mine.

At sunrise,

we go climbing & collecting;

gather our lost bits,

match them up-

like split bark,

acorns and stones.

At sunset,

the dog sighs in his slumber as

we moan

and sweat,

twist like twigs, melt back together,

finger the mud, and lick the moon;

become a symphony that scatters stars.

These days though,

I’m just dough,

right before the rising,

hands and fingers

and fists (not yours my love),

have all had their way with me.

I’ve been kneaded and pulled,

slapped, & punched,

rolled out and covered up.

Miss you.

Under this cover,

I remain.

Still,

for now,

but breathing,

Alive.

Whisper my name,

and I’ll rise for you,

fill your belly,

and answer your doubts

with my soft, hot center.

Open your mouth,

remember where you belong.

Come;

press your forehead next to mine.

Raise the heat until I’m baked.

Slather me with butter,

I promise I’ll drip long & slow.

Bite into me,

swallow me whole.

Revisit your birth &

death & rebirth in me;

Forget all inconsequentials,

& memorize the taste of me.

Allow our earthquakes to

move us into our next eternity,

Amara.

Miss you.

Come-

Let’s you,

just sit,

right there,

in that violet velvet chair.

I’ll kneel at your feet,

my chin perched,

eyes wide,

mesmerized,

by how ordinary,

becomes extraordinary,

simply by passing through-

your lips;

originating from,

your “anywhere”-

a sentence, a smile,

a sneeze, a stare-

I’ll stay,

on my knees,

Pure Ananda,

mesmerized by you.

11/15/23 CK