I often dream of a far-away place,
Which I wish were near – Oh, if only here –
In a distant, uncertain, timeless time,
Which I wish were soon, or, ideally, now –


On a secluded island, lost at sea,
Dwelled a commune of women and beings
Who were gender-free; a society
Which thrived on love, freedom, and equity.


They toiled in joyful solidarity
And worked for wages made of aid and wards;
For the wellness of the community,
They traded kindness, care, and well-wrought words.


They spent their days writing and telling tales;
Stroking skin and lyre strings – divine air;
Making honey and love in sunny vales;
Weaving flower crowns and each other’s hair.


Can you see them, too? The ones with violets
In their lap; ladies on fire burning bright,
Chanting odes, and swearing oaths; silhouettes
Dancing, embracing, out of wicked sight.


– How I long to join their congenial clime,
To live with them by their most wholesome vow.
Perhaps somewhere – nowhere? – someday, sometime;
Or never, no time – still, I hope, somehow.

Warm and soft cheek, lips full and sleek
against mine

Chilly fingers sending shivers
down my spine

Every touch a smooth heart clutch;
thrill divine

Erratic breaths, vibrating depths,
moan and whine

My feelings true, her “I love you”;
certain sign