FEELING ALTERNATIVEs

"What are you afraid of?" he keeps asking, as I sit perched above his naked chest, with my new moon blood smeared like a sticky adhesive between the contact points of our pelvic brains.  I am tired of perpetuating the same old story while living in the shadows of too much time spent processing about all of the "why's" and "why not's," however.  With my two hands crossed upon my heart, I reply, "I am not afraid.  I am feeling."  

"I feel that man who came into the store the other day," I say, "how he blamed "the Asians" for the desecration of our world's oceans, claimed that he had been "awakened" since his major heart attack a month ago and, then, cynically advised that we should just eat all of the seafood we want since "they" won't stop and the oceans will soon bee devoid of all fresh, mouth-watering life anyway."
"Might as well enjoy it while we can," he suggested.

"That's you," my lover responds.  "Yes, I get it," and, in those moments, it was clear - here was an image of me; blaming "the capitalists" for the raping and pillaging of the Earth, yet still fatalistically taking advantage of and abusing the current financial system because "they're not going to stop."  It was a painful reflection that my compassion was attendant to, even as I chuckled at my desire to resist this man's blatant racism. "What about what the Americans are doing?" I poked back, as my chest began to rise.  I knew it was futile but I am only human, what can I say?

Beeing in relating-ship with a man who deeply understands that 'the inner is the outer' is refreshing, to say the least.  Nonetheless, listening to his words about how he "loves money" remains a bitter pill to swallow.  Noticing how often he clears his throat, I speak into the catch in his fifth chakra.  

"It hurts," I immediately say.  "I know it's not personal.  It's just that money and poop are the exact same.  When you have money, your vision remains unchanged - it's simply a greater ease with which to consume that you are seeking.  This isn't sustainable and it is simply more of the same."  

"The thing is," I continued, "I am in LOVE with this planet, for ITS BODY IS MY BODY - there is no separation between.  I love you and I love me," I tell him, as brown ringlets fall in waves around my face.  

"Thus, I have to use my voice to speak up about possible solutions as well as sustainable medicine for our collective movement forward.  If I do not, then any notion I have of 'enlightenment' is an illusion.  And, as much as I want to push you away and resist you and your thinking, I can not - otherwise, I create constriction around my heart.  

I have to simply LOVE YOU."

There is no other alternative.