We are making the future as well as bonding to survive the enormous pressures of the present, and that is what it means to be a part of history. – Audre Lorde, Sister Outsider

We poetry. In motion, we sway meaning, significance. Significant. To matter to. I am here, ghost-in-flesh mattering being. You are here, angel-in-presence emerging a new mattering. Meeting you, I inhabit a new world, a ma that stretches between us, a time-ing of our memory, forming-together the history of us. I kneel in the soil of our love; I tend for you. To -tend. Love is attending to the unfolding of another. To attend is to tend-to. To tend-to is to en-home our activity, to relinquish our power and to instead unfold mutually, equally, Uniques togethering rather than directing. To together is to intimate. Intimate. Familiar, close, known, within, inside. We intimate by patterning our lives with one another, dancing our everyday head-to-chest, just you and me, to softly eternity.

We ensoul our lives already-here, in history. Animating, we wander the otherthinkers, the them that measure and quantify, the imagined One. This One has never existed, but emerges in our patterning, the psychic residue of the struggle of history, the agon where matterings clash. The Leviathan is an imagined One; an unspoken Father that reimagines creation in its own image and barks out this image to the world. There is no such thing as a woman or a man. There is woman-ing and man-ing, two kinds of mattering-in-the-world. But each of these matterings is a tree of infinite branches, ways of woman-ing and man-ing that are as Unique as the Uniques that compose it. And outside these trees lie many other groves, many other ways of gender-ing. We are in the wilds following a dead king. We are free.

She jazzes. Ballets kindness, pinks wisdom, flowers beauty. My sunshine, my soil, the garden who gardens me. I was a mountain when I met you. Honeyapple shoe-tapping the awaiting, I wait. Seeing you, my breath repeats and hums hallelujah, heart-skipping Seraphim my angel graces. Time appears when two or more are gathered, re-membering our being-here; being-here with you I intend and attend-to a new future, your walnut sugarcane eyes welcoming home. En-home-ing. Gently, we unwrap our placetime in the hills, two autos in solar orbiting, rollerskating into our unfolding togethering. Rejoice, join, rejoin, rejoice. The Unique in me nests tenderly with the Unique in you. I tend-to-you. Hello, joy, we kitty dearly our desires, Daniel and the lion’s den. We holydwell en-animation, strawberrysouling the sapien earth. Holding one another, we dream the coming Ark, climbing Ararat and descending into bed a reincarnation. Thicket-wet the jungle monad rivers one the neverone. The two are one are two are one. The Us.

Spiritmatter blends and joins in Alalia, the ocean of possibility that life drips eternally back into. Raindrops of animation, time hovers still as our lives touch and combine, souling creaturely the currents of becoming. The all is repeated and transformed, waves of knowing wyrded into the future, every act an act of fate. Odysseus journeys to Penelope again-and-again, eternal return mything every moment. The myth we carry together carries our carrying-together. Femmebutch, butchfemme. Freckles are indents in time, sun-kissing your Uniquing. My dimples are my gift to you. Placetime rhythms the echoing Unique, the breathing-heartbeat of intertwined anima. I love it when you give me flowers. I love it when you you. I love you.

My forever.

Sweet mother, I cannot weave –
Aphrodite has overcome me
with longing for a girl. – Sappho, Fragments

Image: Bouquet of Sunflowers by Claude Monet (1880)