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Dangerous Compassions

poetry memes

fancy lemonade

“Wow, is this all for me, or to share?” I asked Ming.  He’d poured me some fancy lemonade, two inches of it, in a cute little mason jar.

“All for you!” he said.

“Wow, extravagant!” I said.  “Straight from the lemon teat.  Or the sugar teat.”  I sipped it.  “Uh, did you shake it really good?”

“Yeah!  I shaked it so good!” he said.

“Oh.  It tastes not that sweet.”

“It tastes plenty sweet, to me!” he said.

“Oh,” I said, wondering if my mouth was malfunctioning, or I was missing a gene.  “This isn’t what I need lemonade for.  I guess I go for the ade, not for the lemon!”

We laughed.  I took another drink.  “Is this good?” I asked.

“Yeah, it’s very good!” Ming said.

“Ok!” I said.  The cute little mason jar was empty and cold.

craving

I had been craving chocolate.  “I want a ton of chocolate,” I told Ming.

“We have a ton of chocolate,” he said.

“No, but I can’t have it.  I want magical chocolate that doesn’t mess up my body.  What’s like chocolate but isn’t chocolate?”

“Uh…carob?” he asked.

We laughed and laughed.  “Oh yeah, carob.  Yeah, like that would help.”

poetry memes

I made some more poetry memes.  Hopefully you like them.  I guess it’s become addictive.  Maybe we could call it prolific instead!

poem meme

Yes, my best friend always said I was prolific.  I think of prolific as a nice way to say obsessive, outlier, inappropriate, too much.  Ah, love.

poetry memes

If you are suffering from feeling like too much, may I suggest some You Are Not Too Much cards?  You can get comforted by them, and reminded of how a gift is a gift, not just a curse.  Yeah, the coin has two sides.  Thank you to the friend who had some mailed to me, so helpfully.

poem meme

Imbolc

We had a beautiful Imbolc ritual.  That’s one of my favorite holidays.  This is the sacred cord I braided about community, collaboration, who we choose include as we co-create reality.

braid

It was outdoors, distant, masked–four people total, including me and Ming.  We had a fire, drew Brigid’s cross, bread and milk, gifts, directions, sweet words.  I felt emotions–missed my mom and spoke of the strawberries of my homeland.

By Laura-Marie

Good at listening to the noise until it makes sense.

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