The Dancer, The Priestess

What say You to a mermaid in the Sea?

Her love is like Jocelyn’s Backwards Priest

One foot tip toe in front of the other

Let the Dancer meet Her Beast

You know that You can have Me

You know that You can’t have Me


Wise, tread into Her Peace

It is okay

Sleep on Me

Watch Her fly in Your dreams

For every reason She is not

Three reasons She must be


Keota Picou

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Dry My Eyes

You left a bit of spit on my face

Rub it off 

Or soak it in
Dry my eyes

With a whisper of sin

Sweet nothings lied

Your true love…

She’s beneath your skin
Reflection and liquid courage

You dare not be brave

Letting go- you won’t let go

Can’t handle yourself

Things you’d never say
Poem by Keota Picou

Photo: source

Babe…

The loving pet name I told my partner to stop calling me. It was OK at first. Until I read a comment where my partner referred to an unknown beauty as..”babe”. The pet name morphed into some verboten monster. I’m not quite sure why my partner doesn’t understand why this makes me uncomfortable. So I guess this means I’m no one special. Much like hardly anyone will see this entry. My partner most likely never will. Because I’m just another babe.

My apology to you. I need a moment to calm myself. Until then…

 

In my tree,

Owl

 

 

Photo: E. J. Bellocq

Afternoon coffee

I suppose I should’ve chosen tea. Have you heard the song ” I Wanna Be Yours” by Arctic Monkeys? I love that song. It’s now one of my favorites. This is the theme song playing in my head whenever I chat with my partner.

At this very moment as I type to you I am typing to my partner. It’s a very sexual discussion. But as I sip my coffee and look at the soft clouds above me, I just think of life. Can I discuss life with you? I know maybe no more than one person might read this. A day in the South like this calls for yoga, or bookworm material. A basket of fresh food and a blanket. It’s beautiful outside today. I think I’ll take a walk.

In my tree,

Owl

Photo: E. J. Bellocq

 

Eta: My apology for the typos.

I am a secret

But I am not a mistress.

How so? Well this lover of mine…my partner, travels somewhat far to see me. We discuss current events. Support each other through hard times by being positive influences for each other (words of encouragement). Our sex is amazing. We’ve worked with each other successfully as colleagues. We’ve been on simple yet joyful dates.

But not one photo of us together for the world to see. I have not been declared. I’ve in a vague way declared him to the world. But only out of respect for their wishes. I want to sing from a mountain of who this person is. But sometimes I want to jump from the cliff of what seems to be a situation-ship. When people on social media make certain sexual remarks about a photo, I make sure to state that I am in a relationship. Should I say a situationship? How strange…

My lover doesn’t do that. People flirt with my lover and my lover respond with “[Blah blah blah], babe.”

Often times when I bring up my concerns lover runs to their victim box and pulls out a loophole or two.

I almost feel ashamed to be in this relationship. But then I also feel so proud because of the person they are aside from a spouse. Their actions and non actions are sending mixed signals that they refuse to acknowledge. Showing acts of sweet nothings in private. But my new colleagues, my friends, my enemies, and my siblings all know who this person is.

I am a secret…

 

In my tree,

Owl

 

Photo: E. J. Bellocq