Integrity likes to take long thoughtful walks

When she comes home, her pockets are full of stones and shells

She is the daughter of of a weaver

She has inherited her mother’s sense of texture and color

Although she prefers the potter’s wheel to the loom

She makes ritual vessels for the local temple

It was through working with clay

That Integrity grew to understand that the body is also a vessel

Beautiful, sturdy, empty and sacred

Change wears my sister’s moccasins

He stays up late and wakes up early

He likes to come quietly and kiss me on the back of my neck

When I am at my writing table

He wants to amuse me

And it hurts him when I yell at him

He’s very musical

Sometimes I must listen for a long time

Before I hear the pattern in his music

Pleasure is wild and sweet

She likes purple flowers

She loves the sun and the wind in the night sky

She carries a silver bowl of liquid moonlight

And has a cat named Midnight

Before, I had a feeling of control over my life

Now I have less sense of how things are

I feel that anything can happen and will have little say in the matter

I will learn that Fate is my best friend and I will learn to trust her

I’ll tell you a secret, I wear orange socks, like Excitement

Sensuality likes to make love at the borderline

Where time and space change places

When she is considering a potential lover

She takes him to the ocean and watches

Does he dance with the waves?

It is spring now

And Sensuality is very much in love these days

Her new friend is very sweet

Climbing into bed the first time he confessed

He was a little intimidated about making love with her

Sensuality just laughed and said

But we’ve been making love for days

The wind is a gossip, not in a malicious way

She just likes to stir things up a bit

She runs through the fire barefoot and has no fear of heights

She carries big blue balls of rain with her

And plays the flute and loves all kinds of sounds

Her laughter fills the sky

The wind is a wonderful storyteller

Some read what I write, and think they know me

Some feel what I write, and they do

Like Intuition