Today I walked in from work
Making my way throught the strange and quiet house.
I couldn't understand when I walked into my room and saw you snuggled in my blanket
My bed has never looked so warm and so inviting
Your red hair spilling all over the pillows
Cascading into the shadow
I laid down fully dressed
Laying there in a dream
You are evreything that I will ever need
My best friend
pocketwatch
rain cloud
kissing booth

So strange to see your lips agian
Pursed and perfect
Red stained Beautiful

All so warm and simple
Not like the others
Her whole life is sweet and gentle

You can watch the parts of my life you touch
Turn away from the stoney lonesome
Your vines, your ivy, sweet smelling flowers
Wearing angel soft petals bloom in the pale moon

So what is left for me?
What more do I need?
I have my "Shelter from the Storm"

So
a long tired kiss is in order
on sleeping lips
soft and unkowing

Curling up in the warmth next to her
The flower wrapping her warm petals about me
I need nothing else in this world
As I begin to drift off into sleep so complete
A rustling on the bed beside me
Warm lips touch my ear
I hear her breathe "thank you"
and like that she left me there

I wake up alone
On this old couch
Sunlight creeping in through the broken blinds
In this trash apartment
In this nowhere town
Sober

Where have we been?                           (lost)
You and I are trying our hardest.        (to get lost)
Busted, falling short. Trying and trying.
                                                                Giving our all.
Sped up, running. Knowing. Craving the unkowing.
                                                                (lost)
Cut down a dead tree; make a fire live.

Lying awake in silent tears
each morning, drained of all my might.
To not want to the rest of my years,
to curse I made it through the night.
An overwhelming emptiness
hollows my trust in those who love.
Confide in his uncaring bliss,
unkowing of the eyes above.
He watches with His sincere glance,
provides me with loved ones most near
who are devoted to the chance
of bringing me out of my fear.
Time recalls to re-open scars;
no healing seems to come my way,
it aligns with those who do harm,
at least it seems from these sad days.
But it's not true; time can heal me,
and help those who have prayed each fall.
With their efforts please make me see,
someday accept life's loving call..

Wolfgang Pauli knew 137
And so, at times, do I

He even strangely knew it
Just before he did die

No, I am not Jewish
But I have read Gershom Scholem

These cabalistic coincidences
Could this be why I know 'em?

The Cloud it is Unkowing
It can rain on your parade

And when the Light is showing
It also always casts some shade

I went to a wedding in Tel Aviv
And also in Tokyo too

I wasn't sure, but now I know
David Markson indeed a Jew

(This Is Not a Novel
Read it through and through!)