I am not sure
If I am an artist,
But I like to watch
The way your mouth
Creeps into a smile,
And how your laugh
Crawls deep from the bottom
Of your belly.
I like the way your eyes
Glisten
When you first pry them open.
I like the way your hands
Hold onto me,
As if I'll float
Up
Up
And
Away.
No, I don't know
If I am an artist,
But I can recognize a masterpiece
When I see one.

If I told you that in the closet lived a whale
Would you say that was a lie or tale?

If you believed it
And afterwards
you feel naive then
It's a lie
because it was decieving

But if we both know it's not true
And I am amused
and so are you
Then we could call it a tale
And together fantasize
about the closet whale

Its the squeeze, the wall builders
who would have you defined, boxed
wrapped in a pink bow, more often,
handcuffs or chains
when you refuse to conform.

Sometimes it's good to be scared.
It means you've still got something to lose...

Love is a piece of heven placed on earth to put us through hell
Love is dark magic and we are all under it's spell