"It will be like learning to eat without pepper, but slowly. As pepper adds flavor to each dish, so does love to each moment. In marriage, the love will inevitably become a forsaken understood; an uncommon commonality that, through the years, loses it's luster. But, if I cut pepper wholly out of my diet I would notice. Each dish I tasted it in would revel in splendor, no matter the meat or vegetable on which it dances. So, I vow to never cut out love because of the commonality of love that marriage will ensue. I will never give in to taking it, her, for granted. Spontaneous mountain getaway weekends with lots of Merlot and unashamed whiskeys and even the occasional smokes on our porch out our bedroom window, celebrating my wife with little poems and sunny side up eggs on an idle Tuesday morning, dancing and getting drunk in the living room at 2am when the kids are asleep. This is how I will keep love biting, burning, peppered.

When I was just a little boy,
eyes wide with wonder, love, and joy,
I sat up in my perch in Papa's tree.

I saw the world with no disdain,
knew none but bliss,
sheltered from pain,
I laughed and dreamt of whom I would be,

I had a dream.

I found my peace in mountain trails,
the wisdom of the world unveiled,
in the silence, stillness, calm.
I found me.

To and fro my world would turn,
I walked and as I did I learned,
More and more of who I would be.

I had a dream.

Once I had walked I wanted to run,
to God I turned and to his Son,
Running hard into their arms, into me.

I know not much more now, today,
of whom I will be,
yet I know my name,
I feel the call I want to fly, to be free.

I had a dream.

But as I ******* world of bliss,
poison threatens at my lips,
but I know now exactly how to lead.
the life I lead.

I've learned to fly I must first trust,
not on myself, but in God I dost,
My future is in your hands,
and Lord I know you know that

I had a dream.

So now my feelings juxtaposed,
pre-med or law, and other woes,
I fear and fear of whom I will be.

I want to be the man I saw,
those years ago,
without a flaw,
a man of the Lord, ultimately.

I had a dream.

I've lived it full and lived it well,
so many stories I tell their tale,
Of how and when I reached

my dream.

There is a fire in the boughs of oaks
in the parking lot of my office complex tonight
at 10:05pm. I see it outside the window and I laugh
because I know it yields not heat; the flame
is a reflection of street lights and summer rain
left on leaves.

This year I have learned what it means to be aflame
with doubt, love, hope, and fear. Adulthood
is solitude. I have seen the truth of sovereignty
and the truth of friendship and I know it
to be painful and plentiful. A contradiction
seen in false laughs, false light, false love.

To be twenty-three is to be broken and free,
open and deeply constrained. A contradiction
of hope and fear, identity and longing.

"I refuse
to be nothing."

Cinco de Mayo is a historical celebration with tequila worms, banjos, and dance.
A year ago today my father handed me money for the bar because I graduated college. I bought shots and beer and a velvet blanket of joy to conclude college for my beloved community that night. We danced drunken in the bass and unknown, fearless and strong as marble.
Tonight, one year forth, I have never felt so alone. I am unknown. I am known by some and the some know me deeper than my mother. I love them and tonight I accept that that love is selfless and if I wish it to continue I can expect nothing. They know my sin, my lust, my drubken mistakes, they know my prayers, my hopes, my future aspirations. But on cinco de mayo, no ***** are given. We only talk on Tuesdays.
A walk in the woods, two cigarettes and two hours of spoken silence. Drawing shallow ditches in North Carolina soil, searching for red clay. The ditches are more real than our friendship, today or have I mistaken words for action? Laughable, "brotherhood" today. And you say you know me, I can't believe you think I'm your best friend.
Feliz cinco.
You claim to love me but you put my eulogies in your bathroom trash can? I hope the toothpaste rots my notes fatser than my trust. I am done. I am spent. You have lost.
Cinco de mayo.
Feliz.
I sit in the parking lot of the apartment beside my home. A bud light and camel my only companions. If I even thought to ask for friendship or a bit of your time, commitments to others would come first. Inevitability, you have to do a because b expects c because we have two hours on Tuesday and that equals brotherhood. *******.
But if another asked, you are gloriously free.
**** me for knowing what love is. **** me for knowing my worth.
I am ready for change.
I hope you don't follow my trail-you see my worth and drag me down.
I can not remember the last time you encouraged me out of any reason other than guilt.
**** that and *******.
I am done with sharing marbles, what a ******* stupid metaphor for love.
*******.
I am praying.
Strength, honor, and joy.
I hope you find what you've been seeking with the others.
I am strong enough to stand alone with God.
******* for turning my marbles to your own platform.
Feliz cinco.
Que Dios te bendigo.

In front of a whitewashed house
is a whitewashed man and his white
washed wife. Pristine hands white
knuckles clutch a sharp pitch-fork.

Like an echo, the woman sat.
I saw nine in a row, hands
Smooth and faces distant as
the mountains beyond.