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the author: a story.

Once as children we wandered into a small suburban field. My mind has long changed how it appeared. Now, it is covered by perfectly copied houses. I may never know what that field actually looked like, but I'll always remember an endless savannah; trees like blackened bones reaching into the sky from a waterless earth. We found an oasis of green, shade, and the forgotten fort of apathetic teenagers.

the unbound intimate life.

the unbound intimate life.

There is a way of being
that comes from an untethered heart;
a wild and boundless boreal taiga.

To run wistfully alongside a summer breeze,
or elope aside a fire in the cold of winter.
To feel one’s waves crashing against your rugged coast,
carving her being into the channels of your soul.

I do not wish to live only for the wind,
or get lost in the embrace of a single sea.
To experience only one life
    - only one reality...one world -
would be to ignore the truest teachings
of ancient spirits;
the curious shadows that lay in the ferns and mosses.
They wander unbound,
learning from nothing but absolute experience.

Some will find beauty in the building of a home,
of getting lost in the wild of urban streets;
   - of fulfilling and being fulfilled by a single wonderful life -
but do not project such ideals unto me.
I choose to run with both the wind and bathe in the sea.
I will lay and live with a thousand lives,
as intimately and fiercely as a wildfire;
lit by the moaning crack of lightning against tree
and creating a landscape refreshed and bountiful.
I will dance with women whose love is as wild and unbound,
as her deep blue dress that crashes and whirls around us endlessly.
I will welcome into my heart the woman
whose gentle and magical cadence can coax the owl out of its haunt,
and recharges by the light of a full moon.

There will be those who form the great currents of an ocean,
or the powerful jetstreams of the sky,
whose being shapes the climate of my world and who shares in the fullest of my life.
She who is of such a force would be of her own nature,
loving many as fully as I myself love.
Our affection felt across entire geographies,
pulled by the wandering desires and truths of our independent hearts,
we will allow our love its infinite flight,
that we may build our lives upon the rich soil of endless experience.

the hunger in the pines.

the hunger in the pines.