The Last Lovers Alive

10 Apr

Don’t worry about the world, our stars are too far for it to see us clearly. Our moon is brighter in the dark.

Don’t think about the oceans. Our wind is strong enough to carry us both through the sky, our mountain tops are too high to be reached.

Don’t dwell on the animals of the land. Our wings will take us to new heights, our fins can cross chaotic waters and seas.

We were an endangered species and we were never meant to survive. Forced to adapt to the changing world but now we are stronger inside.

You see, my love, the elements of you and me can survive extinction and everything in between.

Trust in our survival & we’ll thrive until the end of human kind. We’ll be the last lovers alive, you and I.



10 Apr

I’ve been a biological syster to two women and a syster to many more women in life. Many sisters have bonds, but our bond is different. My systers are my baby daddies, they are my toughest critics, my best friends, my daughters and my mothers at times. When people started knowing us as just “the systers” it became evident to us that our bond was different, that it was cyclical not parallel. That we didn’t pass things off based on age or experience or wisdom. That our energies given from one to the other was like nature, that what one took the other two gave, that what one didn’t have the other two did. Synergy, the interaction of multiple elements in a system to produce an effect different from or greater than the sum of their individual effects. Synergistic systers. We saw that our relationship worked better as a whole, with each component in place. From my little syster’s crazy personality to my opinionated, bossy self (I will NOT ban bossy) to my older syster’s therapeutic yet controlling tempo.

It all worked together. We said it was the “Power of 3” and though we wish we had supernatural powers to go along with this “Charmed” nickname, we knew our bond was enough.

There is no “I” in syster…


First time

10 Apr

birthThose few weeks after he was born, I didn’t immediately fall in love. I don’t believe in love at first sight. We were learning each other; I could’ve never imagined his appearance, as I’m sure he wondered about mine. We studied each other’s eyes, noses, mouths and played with each other’s fingers, feeling what it was like to be “mother,” to be “son” for the very first time. The only way you can feel that way is in direct contact with the person who makes you that. You cannot be a mother without a child to call “son” or “daughter.” But from the minute he arrived and said “hi” back to me, I knew I belonged to him, he owned me, and that I would protect him with my life. I loved him the way a tigress loves her cubs, fearlessly and intuitively.

The “falling in love” came later…

Whole Again

7 Dec
Mehky's Mom & Mehky Cincere

Mehky’s Mom & Mehky Cincere

I have my moments when I may buckle, trip or weaken, but I will never fall again or lose all of my strength. A tear may drop once from the corner of my eye but I smile and tell my son it’s the perspiration of life. I may tremble in the cold alone but I shake it off and call it a new movement to make him smile. My ribs may touch but he’ll never go without. Invigoration and inspiration come from his soul and breathe life into my limp body and exhausted mind. I become whole again… He is the little soul outside of me, he is the humanity I carried. To love him is to be selfless, to enjoy this selflessness is love…


26 Nov

There was a moment when she paused, when she witnessed her reflection, when she realized that her body spoke another language, her mind became beautiful and her heart held no secrets. When she saw her hands clenched in fists, her spine standing proud, her hips widened by life, her breasts curved with sustenance, her jaw hardened by punches, her knees weakened but never buckling. Her eyebrows hinted at stories she’d never tell, her cheeks glowed pink from life’s pleasures. That moment of clarity when she saw herself, full, brimming with femininity and strength, power and ferocious womanity, that moment the elements of herself united and all that was left for her to do was simply smile and thank her creator that she was made this way.


Forgetting my Fear of Flying

31 Oct

When will you ever learn, you say. When will I be exhausted from the burn? It’s what makes me feel alive, if I don’t love this hard I feel like I’m depriving myself of life’s greatest pleasure. I can never catch myself before I fall, I always fail to remind myself that I don’t have wings.

I soar above the clouds and forget the solid ground beneath me. Basking in the fresh air way up there where I’m finally free. But at what cost does freedom come? When you realize you’re blindfolded to shield your eyes from the sun. And you’re not built to withstand the pressure, and the intense burn. It is then that gravity reminds you that you are falling.
Faster. The air in your lungs is gone, you can’t survive in this atmosphere.

Girl, where are your wings?

You’re gonna fall and no one will be there to catch you. It’s not suicide if it wasn’t intentional. You didn’t know you couldn’t fly, but you still try every time.


3 Oct

Space bars separate and in our written language even the most obvious words need their own space to exist in. Despiteusbeingabletounderstandandreadsentenceswithnowordsapart…

The space has become necessary, giving words and things the power to stand alone. Allowing phrases and names to exist in the world on their own. Some space is so far, that it begs to remain unknown. As we ponder gravity’s existence to keep us bound to earth’s ground. Then there’s that space between you and I, that separation of hearts that belong welded together but forced apart by words that stand alone and gravity that keeps us grounded in reality. There would be no physical space had the language not invented the rule that dictates the form of this communication. If Earth were a different planet we’d float gracefully wherever the atmosphere would allow us to rise to, holding each other tightly because our hearts refuse to let go. But instead there is space… a void, emptiness where our souls belong entwined and reunited. The shadows of our hearts cling together under each sun rise and moon shine, but the space is too much to bear. Separated until the proper form disappears, until gravity clears the air.



For now we use the ellipses to have us be continued, for the moment our need for oxygen overwhelms our desire to ignore gravity. Separation. Grounding. Space…

One Lyfe at a Time

Living and learning one day at a time

Mamita Ascendente

Tales of motherhood, marriage, and the pursuit of happiness

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loves [co-mee’-dah] = loves food / a cooking and baking chronicle


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