Love does grow on trees
I know that
because I have picked some

Believe me
you will not always feel your seemingly overwhelming sexuality
you feel when young
I know that because I am not young

The thin veil parts a little sometimes
and you no longer can be so sure which side you inhabit
a kind of little half dead half alive
I imagine entering death will be something quite similar

Death is patient
in no hurry
almost
nonchalant.

You can only run so far from decay
so relax

When death is your favourite pastime
the only reality to speak of
you are filed; either a murderer
or a saint.

We all live within the little deaths a day brings
death to ourselves, our thoughts, our beliefs
our pettiness, our inhumanity
and hopefully with time
we will have died to ourselves completely.

we can grieve for each other
a personal bereft
with each sister n brother
the trap of money or fame
or both mixed together
Brother I love you and Sister too
even though I see the shank
glistening with red in your hand
Hiding a dream of Green Dollars.