Love of writing, that is what propels me here every time
Every time I am lost
Words take my hand, and lead me back
with warm, dry touch
Take me home to the home I know
Sharing the seat, sipping my tea
I listened to you talk about meat drums, shellfish, and sex
Homeboys, and dubstep
I marveled at your command of language and
wished I could be eloquent
Then I remembered this.
My haven.
No one knows about my Descartes.
My premise.
It is an ethnic hole in the wall restaraunt when you are starving
A red tinted light when your head throbs near explosion
That cool, blue breeze
Where have you gone, my sweet treehouse dear?
Come sit on the greening wood with me
Smell the dampness and the moss and the magic
Moist oak
Sweet leaves
Nirvana
It was there where I first put my head in your lap
Held your hand
Was honest
Those summer nights that were so deep blue with an outline of purple
My dreams make them glisten silver
Truth and love, maple and oak, stars through leaves
That was my Six Pence None The Richer
That was my tireswing
After you left, I sat there
The trees and I. We were never alone.
One day I stood at the top of our home, and looked down
Down
Down
D
O
W
N
Till I splintered the wood and broke the skin on my ankle
I couldn't do it
I had to keep living so I could meet you again
To die in this limbo would condemn me to purgatory
A middle ground without you
Might as well be Hell
That one night by the sea
You kissed me for the first time
You were scared, but the moon gave you strength, you said
You were sacred
Like deja vu, I will always love the salty breath
Sand in my toes
Rush of the water
That moment is Holy was Holy will ever be Holy
the angel fish marked it in their kelp books
with a coral pencil
are they human because they look at the stars
or do the stars look at them because they are human
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