trust fall…

a little softness, and a little good love... that's all we have to be.

maybe there are
a few hard edges in you
and they just need a little soft touch,
and there are these tender places
in me that just need to know
this is a good love,
and maybe that thing i feel in the
way you take my hand…
how it’s slow, but certain,
i think it’s how we feel the light come in,
and maybe for just this moment
a little softness, and a little good love…
that’s all we have to be.

– trust fall

– butterflies rising

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love and wandering…

when i get close, and when i let walls fall... i become a wild mess.

when i get close,
and when i let walls fall…
i become a wild mess. and i get fully disarmed.
i just wildflower open… soft. vulnerable.
and i become such an easy mark for the way that forever is
such a pretty word off the corner of your smile… and god,
how it feels like the sweetest. thing.
and i swear it… that stars shine brighter,
and skin feels even softer, and songs sink in a little deeper,
and the words are the sweetest. sugar.
and they mean ten times, a hundred times, all the times more…
and i feel it all like lightning and soul-imprint in my marrow.
and it’s beautiful. and it’s terrifying.
because my safe space… is in the wild open…
where there’s growing space and soul-searching space,
and where my fire is bright, and my wings are wide,
and my breathing is all its own, and where i can always
feel the way my heart beats on its own…
with me over here. and you over there.
and i don’t know if my heart will ever settle it…
the way everything is more beautiful when i’m in love,
but i feel so much stronger when i’m not.

– butterflies rising

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in the wild open…

my safe space… is in the wild open. where there’s growing space and soul-searching space

my safe space…
is in the wild open.
where there’s growing space
and soul-searching space,
and where my fire is bright,
and my wings are wide,
and my breathing is all its own…
and where i can always feel the way
my heart beats on its own.

– butterflies rising

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the tender and the fire…

give me the tender and the fire. i want the angst and ache and wild mess.

give me
the tender and the fire.
i want the angst and ache
and wild mess.
all of it broken open,
nothing less.
because there’s just nothing else
that can disarm me like that.
it completely takes me apart…
a man’s passion and
raw vulnerability,
the stretching of his heart walls
and all those flowers growing
from his chest.

– butterflies rising

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all those flowers growing from your chest…

the stretching of your heart walls and all those flowers growing from your chest.

give me
your tender and your fire…
all of it broken open, nothing less.
the stretching of your heart walls and all those
flowers growing from your chest.

– butterflies rising

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