ReEnchant Planet Earth

Warmth is turned back by a hugless reunion
Words are muffled by the noise of the crowd
Concrete floors echo tired luggage wheels
I have arrived

Romantic thought of lover's greetings twist away into foreign signs
Pressure inside builds from confusion
Eyes feel what the mind thinks
I exist between

The dragon remembers, the stomach heaves
The dragon knows, the heart breaks
On the back of the dragon is to fly free — fast and gentle
I climb on

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Lips unused
Breasts scarcely touched
Tongues rarely connect
Eyes, distant and unreadable
Inside thighs still white
Hidden thoughts disassociate feelings
Sandpaper of anger strips away passion
Why begin?

She lived everywhere
You found her online
You chatted for days
The banter breaking into flirts
You met her, her eyes, her intenseness

She lived everywhere
She got lost along the way
She still gets shaky
But less and less
You take her in your arms
And laugh with her
She whispers softly, go real slow

She touches your ears
And you watch the rhythym of her breathing
Her lips gently bruise your lips
With your heart beating fast you go real slow
If all your dreams come true
Do your memories still end up haunting you?
Is there such a thing as letting go?
To another place, another realm

And now you're leaving for home
You watch the lights change
You have a choice to make
She lived everywhere
Can she live here?
You remember and you choose
You walk away
She turns to stardust

I have never considered myself a writer. In fact the letters that I used to write to my mother were returned to me all marked up with corrections. I hated writing. The spelling, the grammar, oh the dreaded grammar!

What changed? A few years ago, my now ex-husband and I were having marital issues and we were in couples therapy. I also decided to go to individual therapy, just in case I wasn't "getting it". You know the story, the trouble with the marriage was that it "was all my fault". And a wonderful thing happened. I started figuring out that it wasn't all me. In fact, I started figuring out that there was a "me," and the me wasn't bad. The "me" was in fact quite creative, strong, vulnerable, intense, loving, scared, soulful. My therapist started to encourage me to write, to draw, to do anything creative. I felt the power of this creativity. My dreams became more powerful, I felt more powerful. And guess what? The marriage ended.

Writing is sharing the roller coaster of emotions, from laughter to the dark soul of the night. You don't get the right words the first time. Virginia Woolf said, "I can only note that the past is beautiful because one never realises an emotion at the time. It expands later, and thus we don't have complete emotions about the present, only about the past." As I work through my past in my stories and poem I get clarity. And something magical happens.

I used to be asleep in my marriage, but now I am awake. I don't want to be haunted by memories. I want to feel them, acknowledge them, write about them with humor and warmth. I want to dream. I have a future on the back of my dragon.

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Written by Samantha DuPont