You do not have to be good.
The spaces in your lines are there
like the gaps in notes
Rests of benevolent space
Vibrations mended by air
Blown by the wind
Until it lands upon your lips
Parted so perfectly
the strings of relevance
breathed out and in
Across my ears
Into my center.

All of your sincerity can nay make me believe
There is an egg hatched within these words
A broken ***** unspilled with lusting
Doesn't a new father and a mother bring
We just carry on with odd shuddering
The benevolent shot of blind oxytocin
Rings the bells of this sweet typing
Until the critic sets in.

Solitude I wear
      like a second skin
my biggest weakness
       my greatest strength
   wading through 
quiet and tired 
    in seclusion
 as dawn draws
    her arms around me 
cold       and damp
    like the sea
           with no oil
for my lamp
       to light my way
through another
      dark    and lonely
November day.