Shaken, not stirred

The only gift I can offer is myself.

I must say the following will start as usual -- no planned ending, a beginning with whatever comes to mind and some type of inchoate thought process that results in confusion on the part of the reader -- where do these nuggets lead to, can they, do they hang together?

Teasing me a monster of clay.
A mostly poetic rose not listening.

Dean is good as my hope
I thought I told him to be a feeling.

Disdain at living so people do cold horrible (parse)

You have made me peace androgyny

It is better to mind persons and love hopes


When you love what i can change then be soft.

The angles, the male scales, the poetic places;
The warrior mother, the being faded.

The seeing of my peace makes dears so big.

I teach myself to have for my Goddess, poems.

Creation from Brigid: dean said bother woman.

I feel that I am running to be a failure.

No one who can deal with safety is afraid.

The pace of reading is not the same as this.



Grew to give

Fathers, freshets, freres, foibles, frogs, fear, feening, another possible death.

Killing one lover is the place of my belief. (ouch)
That lover changed. That lover was a mick -- plague my womanly drug.

Irish cancellation

She called me fool. She called me blow. She called me boss.
I return to slave no one's called me woman.

I dogged a possible baby. I can live if I love my hopes.


Okay, this is anger:

Dealing over the beliefs of the women is like giving steam.

I substitute words like woman for "Christian" as a result of accusing others of maintaining hierarchies when i dream that i can sleep with bosses.

A boss is a hierarchical term.

Here I am, spelling out the affliction.

Each opposite's opposite is its identical being. i can only say that i am poor, so that's the admission that my money is a possible part of pain.

You who want me to live like what i dream of. So I hereby live. I dream of wives who like my place. I give this knowledge so that you will dream of your safety, which is beautiful.

I threaten with drugs; i throw my anger at the part of the homeless that wants my strength. I have to make a place for this man who is being a road to coldness.

He and I were nice. He and I made terrible angry changes.

You want particulars.

I made this freedom (known as a human being, existentially) give me his love. i played his wife. She wants my bitch. He won't give me anything because neither will I. He has the violent anger that makes me want to save my place in my word, which is this fool.

Perhaps you don't know I take literally that the altar of the Goddess is the body of the priestess.

Perhaps you don't know that everything I write makes me a good person. (my delusion, sorry).

I give you anger.

It's because yes is high school.

Cryptic?

I mean you to free life from wisdom. You are playing the happiness of safety. I can not be wise or i will be a wise woman, not a priestess. There's no possible goal without both possibilities and trust.

My goal is to listen to you. My motivation is to seek my base.

That is the circle. My base is my genitalia. I can not make womanly motherly safe freedom if I have no poem.

Ore dean gives chase to his parents.

It's my occupation to admit that i felt incestuous leanings at the same time as I felt transgender leanings (fantasies) This means that i am poored because I thought my own life was the only place I could live with my needs. I have to find this place where all the life that is in androgyny (the simultaneous co-existence of all the elements of gender and sexuality within me) becomes this person who is a lousy bothering muttering presence.

You need to live. i need to live. Therefore I make a lay plaid mick.

My mazda (not Ahura) is one change.

Thnk you for being my place in life. I now return you to the regular channel.

(Amber law: home gives weather)

Having read this over, I give my naked blade to be bird lover.