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The first poem I watched today was by Dia Davina and was called "The Polyamorous Mating Habits of the North American Red Squirrel". It was AMAZING.

The second one was by Dia Davina and it was called "Matching Socks".

The third one was by Dia Davina and it was called "Emergency Room".

I came so alive while I was watching and lost count of how many times I fell in love with the sound of their metaphors and double entandres. I expected to live the rest of my life deprived of the sense of whimsy and lusty satisfaction. It's been a long time since another human has tickled my brain in a way that shot sparks from the base of my spine and out through the top of my head, before cascading back down around me to form a protective shell of impervious creativite potential.

and it's not even about the person. Their smile. Their smirk. Their swagger. All of those things are nice, easy on the eyes, and sexy as hell, but I don't think it's the lips they keep licking, or the muscles in their face that repeatedly become taut with emotion or restraint and relaxed with "fuck it all, anyway". I don't think it's the vocal cords that boldly blunder through all of the things that it never occurred to me to wish that someone would say.

It's the fact that all of these things exist. They are happening somewhere right now and somewhere there is a crazy beautiful brain keeping all of them connected and housed in the same body of magical authenticity.

I am giddy with the anticipation of all the words I have yet to hear them speak. I am considering sending pink slips to all of my other partners, but I just remembered that many of them aren't actually aware of our involvement, so maybe I could just leave them out of our breakup and get back to the business of adoring another stranger from a distance and revelling in possibilities.

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thisisdesire

July 2015

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