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Sandra Jean-Pierre | Digital Artist & Writer of Words.

Tag: lesbian

Silent Detonation

Her hands were warm and firm as they held onto mine the first time we were meeting.  She knew to reach into my space to complete the connection.  Knew from the hours of calls logged, from the technical and medical explanations, knew from my recountings and stories of changing plateaus, that she would have to meet M(m)e more than half way.  And so, there she stood, exhausted from travel and maybe some self-conscious worry, holding both of my sun-browned SMA

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After writing a post about showing up in your own life, I haven’t been doing that here… or many other places, at all. I could blame it on any number of valid things: incapacitating migraines, being sick with this seasons flu of the month, Life®.  And all those things are true.  I’ve been a special kind of sick these past few weeks and I am not sure where or why all these various degrees of sickness have decided to descend

I am not an easy person to love. I am a challenge, a case study in patience. I am complicated. Not on purpose.  I’m not sure people set out to be elaborate, thorny bundled masses of Complex® on purpose.  It’s just what you end up with once Life, situations … people are through with you.  You wind up getting up from the ground one day and realize how ramshackled and rough around the edges you are and in the next

You are looking for me and I will know you when I see you… © 2013 Sandra Jean-Pierre I think of you now, often. in the dim and dark stretches of the night when my back needs rubbing or my soul needs consoling, when my lips need you near to kiss. I imagine our days, filled with small talkings, big love and unspoken knowing nods of the disease that we both refuse to acknowledge, that keeps my arms from wrapping

It’s one of those nights, where the day has worn on me long and thin, where my eyes burn but I push them to entertain me anyway. It is one of those nights where I am needy and greedy and visceral with it to no one in particular.  It is one of those dangerous nights when all my pieces don’t want to add up yet I refuse to run on a deficit. One of those nights where nothing is wrong

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