#softsst

I have love for the many months behind us:   blurred and blended  into a canvas of oils. the blues and the greens,  even the sickly yellows.  I love it as I love you  even as I could not remember  it all; even as it writes itself anew  in recall.  even as I did not yet know  what we would learn,  and what these  memories would mean. I have love for the tears and  smiles yet to be in front of us the saplings growing  in the water spilled soil.  See? I am feeding and watering  it. My hands are dirty, and  one of my nails have split.  I am still learning the difference  between flowers and weeds.  And that maybe a weed is not  a weed except where it has been unwelcomely placed.  The sun is hot and I am sticky  with sweat.  I breathe as I sit in the work:  A project ever growing unfinished.

a question sticks to the  tongue:  monstrous,  violent -  RUN.

Such silver could have only been followed by rain.

I have been standing in the shower for over Twenty minutes waiting For all that water to crawl inside me: I want to feel like so much less than rain. Look. Just tell me how to deaden the nerve. Show me where to cut every wire. This is so much body and my Eyes are hot: hot: hot. The hills haven't been talking much. I am skin, flesh and so much lonely. Show me how to fry brain cells dead and quick As phone messages. There's so much buzz. It writhes, pings and calls with Life. Life. Life. I am thrumming with would be silence. The scraps of peace are of an artificial hue: Painted all in blue.

I think you should sleep.  It's probably night time;  Somewhere else at least.