. riesgo, del 23 .

the creak of chain link, too often used by horror films to provoke fear in the hearts of their spectators, rings of happiness, sounding more like squeals of joy singing rhythmically to the beat of my to and fro than anything else. little feet floating above a red mulch with a deep forest smell reveal each perfectly calculated movement. as they push forth side by side and pressed tightly together, arms stretch out, elbows lock, spine tips back, head leans so the face gazes skyward. now knees bend and tuck feet beneath body, toes pointing back, tiny hands pulling with elbows bent and torso pushed forward. my science, this pattern i have long studied. i continue the prescribed movements, repeating one, then the other. i plan my next step, carefully counting each breath, each lean, each dip. legs bend, forward lean, breathe. extend, lean back, breathe. legs bend, forward lean, breathe. extend, lean back, breathe, prepare-- release!

my fingers extend, following my soaring body, frozen midair, breath choked, ecstatic.

three gusts of wind blow past me, and i see my feet plummet.

the red much comes up to meet me, embracing every gasp of my adventure, praising every rejected doubt.

i turn my body and face the sky once more, chest heaving, ankles throbbing, cheeks sore from the smiles that abound.

there's magic in that mulch.

flying is magical, indeed. but it is in landing that my true love is found.

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2014/02/23/daily-prompt-moon-walking/

. mandatos del diez .

me dices que debo escribir pero

lo único que se me antoja
es tocarte

te empujo contra la pared
hundo mis dedos contra tu carne
     la textura de tu piel siempre me sorprende
tan suave
tan frágil
tibia
veloz

velozmente empujo todo mi cuerpo contra el tuyo

los pocos minutos que nos quedan
van disminuyendo
desapareciendo
velozmente

mis labios se enredan con los tuyos
lenguas envueltas

el reloj nos apura
la prisa te fascina

te siento
tu vello de pie
todo tu cuerpo se eriza

mi calor te envuelve
te siento
tu hermosa presión combate el peso de mi cuerpo que te oprime contra la pintura azul pastel uniformemente aplicada sobre la pared fría que abraza tu espalda mientras me abrasas la espalda

veloz incendio

corazón ardiente

tu deleite humedece la pila de cenizas en la que me he convertido tras vivir en tu velocidad

lentamente me hidrata
tomo
bolígrafo
entre dedos

escribo


dailypost.wordpress.com/2014/03/10/daily-prompt-heat/

. instrucciones del 2.21 .

i sit in silence and let the calm flow over me. nowhere to be, nothing to do, no expectations, no rules, no limits. free to run wild, and i sit. free to play, and i'm still. free to tear the world to shreds, and i work to put myself together.

(i cannot run from any fear in this silence. perhaps if i am still enough it will not see me.)

(it has never worked before, but it is always worth a try.)

the ticking clock marks the path of today's unscheduled life. each second reminds me of my freedom. i feel the hand slow down, and i fear it might be infinite.

rising from my place of peace, i look around, calmly observe my surroundings, identify the spots that need work. slowly, calmly, i move into action. taking up my tools, i set out to tidy things up. i seek out the sounds that will fill the space around me and accompany me on this journey of cleansing. my environs slowly improve, gradually revealing the effort i put forth.

when i am satisfied with my effort (because i will never be satisfied with the outcome, always finding a fleck that remains, a speck that i missed), i step back. i take a moment of pause to observe the change, the growth, the improvement, the progress. i find joy in this.

stepping slowly, i move to the next room. i move my hand to the spot where i placed your thoughts. i grasp this collection in my palm, wrapping my fingers around it. sitting once more, breathing deep, i scan through the fragments of your voice. the memory of your warmth washes over me, flooding my heart, swelling my soul. i am overwhelmed with happiness. i feel your peace.

my bare feet inching around, one adjustment after another, i move once more. i open the new room to another set of eyes, another smile, another soul. sitting together, we begin our exchange. the beauty in this sharing, this communion most holy, penetrates skin and bone, seeping into our marrow. we speak of troubles and of celebrations, successes and failures, struggle and surrender. thus, we speak of love, and of joy.

our feet
move
alongside
each other.
with a gentle, steady pace, we travel beyond the walls of our home. we move to see the world outside. we move to change our breath, to grow our hearts, to nourish our souls.
we see nature
sky — with clouds and birds and sunshine;
air — wind, thick breath, swaying branches;
dirt — more growth, wiggling life, and also death that slowly rejoins its origins.

taking a lesson from them, from this last sight, we seek out a space to settle, to rest our weary feet. we have grown so much. we have been wandering for ages. we have encountered many fellows, learned many lessons.

we find a patch of grass that calls our names, whispering in the cool breeze. we stand together. we slowly,
gently
bring ourselves
close to it.
we sit, then lay. facing each other, our eyes lock in a gaze that contains all memories. our lives, in the meeting of pupils. full lives.

with lives so full, now complete, we rest.

we hear the ticking clock once more.
slow,
then faster.

and as you take my hand in yours
it stops.

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2014/02/21/daily-prompt-good-time/