“For him, my body was for him.”

I remember so little that I can’t forget enough.

Take a souvenir you don’t have to keep, Just pretend you want to remember.

For in the wild I feel the safest where the thorns of the invisible hand can not prick me.

Many times over my eyes have devoured the layers of your skin but I’ve never seen you naked.

Living in a constant paradox, begging to be held and released by gravity, to be grounded and free. But my feet pressed against the earth yearn for the clouds above my fingertips adrift whispering I don’t want to be at the mercy of gravity.

The cloak of death has favorites when its strings are being controlled by the puppeteer of hatred.

Let your memories fall into place, you don’t have to carry all of them at once.

Why are we told to be afraid to hurt? Why do we avoid, run and hide? Cover up inside with shields of armor, Our shins, and elbows made of pads of plastic; We are not made of glass and tattered bits, It’s not weakness when our strength builds us to last.

There is no sunrise as beautiful as the one where you realize you are worth a million suns.

Where do I stand when neither side recognizes me as one of them.

For time does nothing for you if you do nothing with it.

I am suffocating in the vacancy of the overflowing space, can you feel me reaching out?

Can you taste the colors your ancestors weaved into, The armors of resilience they wore; Can you taste the colors of the unpaved path before you, waiting to be colored by you?

Have you ever heard silence? How do you hear the silence? You don’t, you feel it. And they stared at the silence between them.

How can I not love you from a distance when you breathe the same way I do, Have the same needs I do?  Search for the same purpose and meaning that I do? Why must there be me over here and you over there that do not live in the same world?

They are simple creatures they see right through you and if by chance they miss you, they will make you believe you were never there.

Know, O beloved, that man was not created in jest or at random, but marvelously made and for some great end. Although he is not form everlasting, yet he lives for ever; and though his body is mean and earthly, yet his spirit is lofty and divine.

I don’t think I’m fixed. People think that you’re like a car in a body shop. You go in, they fix you, and you’re out. It takes constant fixing.

From the body of one guilty deed a thousand ghostly fears and haunting thoughts proceed.

I often think that a slightly exposed shoulder emerging from a long satin nightgown packs more sex than two naked bodies in bed.

The naked woman’s body is a portion of eternity too great for the eye of man.

Obscenity only comes in when the mind despises and fears the body, and the body hates and resists the mind.

All forces that reside in the body are angels.

Our struggle is not easy. Those who oppose our cause are rich and powerful and they have many allies in high places. We are poor. Our allies are few. But we have something the rich do not own. We have our bodies and spirits and the justice of our cause as our weapons.