Author: Candid Corvid Productions

This evening, a friend has been trying to help me identify my ideal partner type.

It is really quite confusing to me because I am a poetic visionary, romantically inclined.

This almost avoids being with anyone “solidly grounded” – lol.

I built a base upon concepts of world religions, sustainability, earth-based systems, philosophies of growing and evolving human consciousness.

Yet, I have so many other aspects, as well.

He said I need to find my “compliment” – but, what does that quantify as?

For example, I recently discovered Poets Of The Fall and am smitten by the lead singer’s capacity of creative expression, sharing, and visionary inclusivity lyrics.

He could be an example of my type, hypothetically.

But, jeez…none of this is simple for me.

I desire being with another visionary who also wants functionality and touch connection.

But, I have no idea what would compliment me that will allow me to flourish as my true self, instead of relegating me to another outdated and caged role.

I was joking with my friend that he found a partner who could speak his chemical equation language.

I want to be with someone who shares similar vision in world views, and I want us to share excitement and come up with our own “equations.”

Someone who can keep up with my thinking and feeling and take turns in the lead-follow while reaching for new heights, together.

I want to soar high – not just fly.

The love given to her must increase from her partner – not decrease – otherwise post-partum depression turns into a “wasting” condition of her soul for all that she has already given (and the child still needs), if she receives no external replenishment.

“This was a special bomb, one issued to each of us for this mission with instructions to use them if we found ways to make them effective. The squawking I heard as I threw it was the bomb shouting in skinny talk (free translation): ‘I’m a thirty second bomb! I’m a thirty second bomb! Twenty-nine! Twenty-eight! Twenty-seven!…'”

From Starship Troopers, by Robert Heinlein.

http://www.technovelgy.com/ct/content.asp?Bnum=1021

Thicker than heroine,
Skin itched for a taste

While synapses raged –
Starved without trace.

Tossed adrift without ship
Like flotsom among twigs,

One struggles to remember
Soul has its own purpose.

A vessel is worthless without its being used.

He brought her to her knees to please him –
Then told her she was not wanted, anymore.

That which targets your deepest desires to pinpoint accuracy, then carresses inch by inch in alluring whispers tasping – pouring over and into synapses, promising release of every repressed or denied craving until one is pushed past resistance into begging for pleasure to never stop.

I saw the couple heading toward from where I’d come as I drove past them.

They were both laughing and smiling with eyes alight, in their 60’s-70’s – but only in that they had gray-silver hair and understanding of their own maturity.

It was clear to me then that they had found love again and were making the most of it by holding hands while striding confident in the bright day’s sun.