My dear miss Able asked me about a hidden place.

A place where words go to find lovers.
A Tinder for f̶o̶r̶e̶p̶l̶a̶y̶  wordplay.

Where "She" swipes right on "Him" to create "Them".

Where "Un" and "Faithful" got together and made "Faithfulun"
Because "Faithful" is also seeing "Dyslexia"

Where my friend "Alone" swept left on "Everybody"
And never changed.

And "In" became "Indecent" when he, infatuated,
Increasingly indulged
Into "Inappropriation" while dating "decent" and then Indiscreetly descended into "Insanity".

Where "Baby" got "Back" after "Laid-Back" split when "Laid"
got "Off".

Miss Able doubted this place even after her first son,
"Question" who took her surname.



But this place does exist-

Where gold is mind inside a poet.

I sat to end a day dragged on
Spaghetti topped with parmesan.
When the plates found clean, I let out a yawn.
And my pillow I placed my head upon.

In my dreams God had drawn
Back curtains to reveal the con;
A sky deceptively white as swan,
Found only as melted parmesan.

Again in morning I released a yawn,
Through my window I greeted dawn.
But found my dream all but gone
As the sky still smooth as parmesan.

And the day drags on.
And on.

She'll read this as proof of my thoughts when she's away
That my mind never drifts, or heart ever sway,

And this beautiful ache I know as space
Is just another way to know her grace.

So I'll wait.

If only for a moment of her time,
I'll take what she gives,
A minute, or lifetime.

Don't you dare tell me Heaven exists,
The closest I've ever been were those nights that I felt loved.
The closest I've ever been were those lips-

They tasted like Heaven,
But the after taste is wanting,
The after taste is unloved.
The after taste is regret for falling in love again.

Don't you dare tell me Hell exists,
Because I've had those nights where only love remains.
I've known those lips that strip hate from your tongue.

I know of love,
I know of it's wake.
I know what I would die for,
And what would bring me back to life.

Love and hate remind us of what it means to be alive.
And I know neither.


So don't you ******* dare tell me that I exist.

Within your phantom hands
I found the noose
Only to die again today

Sweet allure of almost
Can't you hold me tonight?
It's been 23 years since I've felt loved.

Why is my mind like a subway?
Crowded
Filled with every pretty face
That couldn't give a ****

Amongst them the worst
That I would settle
And I, still found less than the tiles
Stained with last nights bad decisions.
Another step upon me, I hope you get to go where you long to be.

I'll be here. Like I always have been.

In adolescence I dreamt amongst friends
What we might become,

"The President!" Said he,
"A Princess!" Said she,
"Happy."  I said.

Reconvened as adults we discussed
The likelihood of our dreams,

And found mine least of these.

God works in mysterious ways,
Or not at all.
I feast on apples all day,
Only to trigger a fall.
Condemned homeless veins take needles to stave,
I, amongst these souls profane
weighed less than what God might save.

Did our savior turn his eyes from us
As Satan spewed miasmal wretchedness?
Rancidity overwhelmed the Heavens
And scorn fell like rain
drowning streets, ***** houses and churches,
and from these oozed the truth of our existence.
Birthed in this putrid slime
we crawled, and struggled, and ached,
and cried, and prayed to whatever god might listen-

Of course,
none ever did.

So we waited,

And waited,

And waited,

For nothing.

I could speak my mind in a thousand different ways,

And find these all insufficient.

But a single word spoke in heart,

And the world forever better.

What is the burning in your chest
But your heart outgrowing its cage

Or the resilience in clenched fists,
Your coming of age

Through mistakes the universe says "you're getting in the way."

But undeterred you take a seat, and promise, "I'm here to stay."

Invited up
on boards creakier than my bones

Steps lead me to heaven, to hell- no, just an end

And you
my dear friend
have misplaced the rope

No matter, pull my heart strings once again, darling, you know the way

Love is a nuisance.

Vacant space of what used to be now gives way for busy hands.

bend and break, mend and splice.
Now fasten it well, and fasten it tight

Before my feet fell, my final thought:
A recollection of our days together.

"Love is a nuis-"