title: Infinite In My Heart: Poems of Love, Loss, and Hope
author:  Martina E. Faulkner 
description: Martina E. Faulkner has been called a Mystic for the modern age: part visionary and philosopher, part writer and teacher, and part healer and guide. Always writing, Martina has been sharing her inspirational prose for over a decade, while quietly writing poetry for herself, until now. This is Martinas first book of collected poems, delving into the very human experiences of love, loss, and hope. The theme of hope is prevalent throughout all of Martinas work and teachings. As an author, Martina uses words to teach, share, and express what it means to be both human and divine  what it means to have hope. Martina combines her experience and expertise (as a Certified Life Coach, Therapist, Reiki Master Teacher, and gifted Psychic/Intuitive) in new and innovative ways that serve to inspire others to create more meaningful and joy-filled lives. Martina currently resides in the Chicago area with her family and her dog. She enjoys being in nature or pursuing her other creative interests, such as photography, painting, and jewelry making.
zlib_text: ALSO	BY	CLEMENTINE	VON	RADICS
  Mouthful	of	Forevers
  For	Teenage	Girls	with	Wild	Ambitions	and	Trembling	Hearts
  
  CONTENTS
  PART	I
  PART	II
  Index
  Acknowledgments
  About	the	author
  
  I’ve	polished	this	anger	and	now	it’s	a	knife.
  —Cathy	Linh	Che
  
  In	the	dream,	I	cut	open	my	own	arm
  and	out	poured	a	river	that	snaked	its	way
  through	Oregon.	Out	poured	each	dead	friend,
  now	buried	in	the	fall
  earth	which	smells	always	of	rot.
  The	blackberry	stains,
  the	unswallowed	medicine,
  the	face	of	each	person	I	love
  and	hope	to	never	see	again.
  Out	poured	each	grief	I	have	named
  and	each	grief	there	is	no	language	for.
  In	the	dream,	I	saw	a	way	to	survive	and	I	did.
  This	is	how	I	remember	it.	I	lost	a	whole	river.
  I	stayed	standing.
  
  PART	I
  
  THE	FIRST	TIME	I	KNEW
  I	say	to	my	best	friend
  This	love	has	become
  an	endless	game
  of	cat	and	mouse.
  She	says
  Baby,	I	love	you
  But	why	are	you	always	the	mouse?
  
  STORM.
  The	week	
  after	I	found
  another	woman’s	fingerprints
  all	over	my	home.
  After	the	storm
  of	begging	
  an