Glass trees

Princess pajamas, tippy toes,
an ice scientist smiled from her window.
"You are beautiful" she whispered
I watched silently from the doorway.

The ice scientist kissed her friends goodnight,
Then giggled at her sloppy lipstick stain.
soon, a flurry of more kisses painted the window.
I let out a chuckle.
This jumped  the ice scientist.

"Poophead Dada" she glared at me
Through a face of lipstick kiss smears
"I love you, too" I knelt
took wet cloth to her face.

"Dada?"
"Yes, Poophead?"
"What temperature does love freeze?"
We stared at each other.
Her blue eyes sparkled with a single blink.
I did not expect this question.
nor did I expect,
the extent to which
we would find the answer.

In the audio recording you sent me
An hour of touching yourself
punishment for misbehavior
you giggle and cry at the same time
With a trembling whimper

It's too late now, for a confession.
We were never so honest, as our ***
Violent, passionate
suspending reality momentarily

Life's one true sin, objectification.
And now, you are a recording.

Your eye begging Me, The Cuckoo Bird
To Free you from your own fingers

like the cuckoo bird
My religion
Only gave me one hour
To howl, at passing time.

I warn to not set expectations in the face of discomfort or fear.

Not only could it lay thornbushes like barbed wire fence in way of people who may want to help you.

The weeds may also grow instead of you. Not just around you.

A room with walls made of thorn bushes instead of barbed wire may look like a sanctuary garden. But with four walls that no one will touch, it is still a cage.

Don't silence a helping hand, because you're insulted that it does, or doesn't feed.

Just hold it. Thankfully.
Until you do not wish to hold it any longer.
And then let go.

The carpenters house is never finished.

The dishwashers roomate leaves passive aggressive sticky notes on the faucet.

After work, the cook does not make dinner; the cook finds dinner.

The retail worker will not hesitate to call you an *******.

The bartender
can not hold a relationship.

The caregiver
can not bear a child

When the lobbyist comes home, there is no talk of money; there is no talk at all, only passion, hands and coffee.

When the lobbyist does not come home, there is plenty talk of money; prepaid hotel suites, passion, hands and no coffee.

In the *** workers free time, the *** worker does not give body to strangers; you will never find a lover more faithful than the *** worker.

When the prophett dies, the prophett keeps living.

When the artist is not painting
the artist is watching.

The worlds most powerful leaders have a dungeon in their basement.

The sociopath can know what is right and do the wrong thing anyway.
The sociopath doesn't need a job for that.

It just happens...

sometimes...

The sociopath is working on it.

A little girl found a deck of cards
On her daddy's poker table.

She always knew how to make a home
Out of a gambler.

Her hands were steady as they were small
She built a tower, stories tall.
When daddy returned, it never fell.
The boys bet his chips around it.

We built this family with a house of cards
Steady hands and racing hearts.
We built this family with a house of cards.
Queen of hearts, two of cups.

Daddys a fool, played his part
Just half a step into the dark
When A little girl found a deck of cards
Sitting on her mommys altar.

Her hands were steady as they were small
She watched her house of cards grow.
When mommy returned to Tarot.
The cards had found themselves
a different owner.

We built this family with a house of cards
A good read, a bad hand.
We built this family with a house of cards.
The fool, The queen of hearts

The dealer busts, we grow old
A little girl can build a home.
With nothin' but two decks of cards
Shuffled all together

In the audio recording you sent me
An hour of touching yourself
punishment for misbehavior

you giggled and cried at the same time

The "Oh, ****"'s
"dear, God"'s
They built up inside

screaming for the pain to stop
With a trembling whimper.
"This is fun, but I can't wait 'till it's over"

If only you had said this sooner
In the daylight
We could have known
Time was running out.

We were never so honest
as our ***
Not even to ourselves

Bent over the painted lines of her road.
Stood a black feathered crow
peeling back a tendon of flesh,
Like a strand of red twizzler candy,
from the tannish white fur
of a dead bunny.

she thought this was cute.

"AWW! THEY'RE KISSING!!"

Her daddy did not correct her.

This memory, he revisits every time she brings a new boy home.
Debates internally,
the tipping scales that balance ignorance and optimism.
If maybe he should have explained the beauty in death, rather than let her beleive her illusions.
The beauty in nature, the circle of life.

Like a cat, she brings home dead animals

Like the owner of a cat,
He is unimpressed.

Maybe if he told her the bunny was dead, she would stop offering herself to the crows.