Aunt Flo Art

At each moon's rising  
she walks to the edge,  
tips her goblet  
to anoint the waves  
with the blood of lives unlived  

Gratefully letting go  
of burdens that are not hers to carry,  
shedding layers of responsibilities  
she was never meant to bear  
 
And when all has been released  
to the eternal tides,  
she turns back  
with no regrets,  
knowing all that remains  
is truly  
hers.

I pause to remember  
how undone we were  
and how you I waited for
coming through like dawn  
to greet me silently and fully.  
 
Crimson center of all  
I could ache to become,  
yet where were the recipients.  
You were secret only but to me.
I never let you define me  
yet I was the definition of you;  
arriving and departing,  
never fully here,  
amorphous and fluid  
slowly ebbing away in fits and starts  
only to return stronger.  
 
You and I congealed  
in creatinous convergence  
playing along with our fate.  
We would part one day  
and you would sink in  
a final departure.  
 
Still your ghost remains,  
haunting and paraplectic.  
I feel your tiny flutter;  
your wings phantasmagoric  
as if I could use them to  
resurrect you,
as if we could be in  
sweet opposition again  
revolving in a tragic  
drama of creation  
with no real destination  
or order.
 
As if life, itself could follow us  
and fill the empty vessel of a heart;  
ascending and fading as  
some rampant desire.
You were in my darkest corner  
with the object of it  
and you ran away like him  
with all those tears I shed;  
returning like laughter  
as you always would --  
brighter and stronger.  
 
In time I'll ask, where did you go?  
I won t miss you;  
you and I were never  
really here.  
 
       .....