the dragonfly kaleidoscope is what this full moon gemini feels like. i am feeling how knowledge is fleeting and when you get stuck in it, the story knowledge itself creates can be dangerous, inspiring, wrong, right, and eight million different other qualities. qualities of the mind and of the story feels like dragonflies. and at the same time (gemini duplicity) i am rebellious against calling it “just” the mind and “just” the story because i can feel the deep need of the feminine heart to honor the story. yin and yang. honor the story to let it go. honor the feelings to let them go. and how to honor? give the story space to express itself and reveal what it wants to tell, which is richer than the words, you know. richer than knowledge. richer than what words can comprehend. when that richness is felt the story can be let go of again. in and out breath. pink and blue. hot pink and cerulean. dreaming and waking. the naming of the ten thousand things. slathering lotion on dry winter skin. talks of the shadow erotic. vulnerability rising to the surface. not afraid to say it, to share it, to walk there with a friend. giving my life to him (or to her, or to some non-binary form of person) in complete surrender, the guru, the lover, the sacred other….a story, a way, a love affair, a secret, a shadow and light play, thing humans can do. force and submission. pretend and real life. action and fantasy. so much duplicity, always always always. gemini duplicity rises and bubbles and makes ice cream float on the top and i don’t even like ice cream but it makes a good metaphor. the sky is salmon in strips in between soft nightgown greyish blue as if the morning is saying be gentle and i love you. heat rising in my blood and i don’t even know why. cold ass morning in the thirties and i could almost break into a sweat. so much going on my head. glad to be getting into the trees instead and to talk with a friend who is as cerebral as i am. soft words in the second system of turtle listening. not bulldozing my way into the mind with i know this and i know that. loving knowing very little and only feeling it. loving the second turtle system. turtle listening. loving how i can write as cryptic and free flow as i like as if this were freedom and as if i remember not having it. as if i remember a different life cause having a toilet feels so high class and having a shower feels like i won the lottery and getting the space to do what i want sometimes is like cash in a wallet for somebody not used to being free and who is visiting me? who is speaking? stories aching to come through the human voice from other souls haunt me. so many stories held in the hearts of the dead still unsaid hover above graveyards and the heads of the sensitives. hot pink, i call upon you to ignite the effulgence of the human heart through story telling and bring this leopard print fire into full blaze. new ways new ways new ways!