Anatomy of a Lighthouse

I am the Shamrock green of security.

Attachment Theory is the spectrum on which humanity is splayed

haphazardly trying to relate.

Red and blue at the poles

and jagged zig-zagged Secondary chaos filling in the holes

and twisting around themselves trying to feel whole.

We just need a balance of variety and consistency.

I am the Naples yellow hue of

Congruity.

Positive Regard, the color of tangerine, bright and citrusy tart

belief

that we're doing our best.

Carl Rogers can rest, knowing we carry his torch.

I am the cerulean center of flame that shines and refines.

Everything and nothing makes me unique.

I am the glow in different camps and tenders.

Embers rising.

I am the Emoto snowflake of gratitude.

I bristle when people form slurs of snowflakes;

when they're these brilliant, dynamic, reflective fractals

of water woven tapestries.

A flurry of shared properties with

remarkable singularities.

Packed and swept away like a monk's mandala.

I am the fine cream grit of sand

under a drum circle dance.

Creating glass from

brilliant electric sparks;

discharged in the atmosphere between cloud and ground.

Beams of slanting sun

splicing time found.

I am the inky negative space snuggled

between the foreground

of watercolor porches.

Reversing Rorshach's

illusion of a world that's black

and white.

I am the stucco hibiscus spiral of resiliency.

The room I passed through in infancy and revisit

to claim who I want to be.

I am the splattered apron of Polyamory.

The primary palette of pansexuality.

Creating a collage, hodge-podge of memories.

When you stand in my studio,

the mess is the masterpiece.

Or mistresspiece.

I own my femininity.

I am the Goddess Cerdata,

a title gifted to me.

Heart Giver.

The grafted union of Hindu and Latin.

My Champion creates abundantly.

I wear a gilded leaf crown

upon pixie petals

dipped in Ginger Rose.

I am anointed by fingers and prose.

I am honeysuckle sunshine.

Indigo between starlight.

A nebula galaxy

the colors of curious, teal and lime green;

a flash of diffusing light reaching for infinity.

Florescent illumination

of parts unseen.

I am a soul blanket;

A kaleidoscopic quilt of various textures and dimensionality.

Each love and lover a patch.

Basting stitches hold to me what is carefully attached.

Parts of me are stained, frayed, or gray

with time and well-worn clinging.

Parts are prominently vibrant,

ready for the flinging.

All of me wrapped and draped,

resting in the warmth we shared.

Never folded at the foot of the bed,

but spread upon the frame.

I am a golden opal prism;

a milky, warm farrago of facets

waiting to be explored

and exploring.

I am a Crystal Gem whose weapon is a bubble-shield of mirrors;

A biodome of pain and potential.

An invitation to grow.

The holographic periwinkle of hope.

And I'm hoping

to empower from a place

privilege has afforded me.

I am connection, embodied.

A translucent lighthouse

constructed by community.

Sturdy spiral ascension to the wisdom inside of me

that I am a safe place to be.