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Alexa, turn off the light
Alexa, it's cold in here
Alexa, tell me a story
Alexa, sing me a lullaby
Alexa, I miss my girl
Alexa, pull up my favorite ****
Alexa, are you real?
Alexa, I'm bored
Alexa, stop
I'm sad
He is the sky full of stars
The stars full of dreams
A dream full of hope
A poem I will never finish



He is the wonder of joy
The joy of life
A life filled with love
A love that will not end

   not today

   not tomorrow

   not ever

He is the music in my heart
The heart in my soul
The soul in my heart
A kindness that grows

   and grows

     and grows

He is everything in a sky full of stars
More than I could have dreamt
More than I could have hoped
A wish that comes true
again and again

   every moment

   of everyday

My lifes greatest privilege
My loves greatest joy
My son
The poem I will never finish
 Oct 2017 Arlo Disarray
Said the young guy on my right.
"Why?" asked the bartender.
"Because people are more likely to come out if you yell 'fire.' It's been proven."

Her brow furrowed in doubt.

"Well that makes sense," I said, trying to help.
"**** makes people uncomfortable, but everyone wants to see a fire."
Excerpt from a recent conversation at the bar.
I am desperate for an intellectual conversation within a locked gaze where no words are spoken aloud and while staring into the void within the dark abyss I see a smile that says
“It’s ok... I have monsters too..”
Driving down the road
of the last summer afternoon
a tear of joyful sorrow yawning
in the corner of my eye
as the echo of laughter
from the last months past
run through the halls of my heart
and I wonder where has the time gone
where have the nights snuck away to
and the days run off with
and how I wish we had one more week
one more month
one more forever summer more
to have the earth spin in place
and have you not age another day
one more late night science project
and one more chapter
of one more book
one more lazy day
of sleeping to almost noon
one more day of sun and fun
one more day of running laughter
and lego blocks and movie tickets
and Donkey Kong and Mario
one more day before
the morning school bell rings
and takes and adds another year
that will pass to quick
and end too soon
He carved her bones out of the soft spots of time
and the fires of eternity
and cooled and smoothed them in the rivers
that ran down from the mountains
where the old gods were rumored
to have gone mad and fallen asleep
beyond the knowledge and prayers
of all things that breathed and lived
and loved and hoped

He started with the caves that would form the pools
in which her eyes would sleep
and dream and wonder
and then shaped her skull around them
leaving out no detail or necessity
making each curve and line as important as the last

With her head complete he moved to each bone
that would be her spine with the same delicate care for perfection
and from her spine he then formed her ribs
making sure to reinforce each one
yet leave them flexible as it would be their function
to protect her heart and give it room to bloom and grow

He formed a bone of intricate nature
in the center and front of her
for the ribs to attach themselves to
and placed two bones along her collar
and blades on the left and right of her back
from which her arms would sway and swing
and hold things close

and then moved down and began
to chisel out the hills and arcs of her hips
where her legs would hang and twirl and spin
and then chipped away at time and eternity
to fashion every tiny bone of her feet
on which she would walk and run
and leap and dance upon

With the rest of her bones complete
he began to tenderly shape
and cut and sculpt each bone in her hand
making sure they would be pliable and limber
with a touch of delicacy and strength
for with her hands she would weave
dreams and life and love

With the last of her fingertips carved
and cooled and smoothed
and pulled from the river
he laid her bones out carefully one by one
on a blanket that he had stolen
from the robes of death
from the time before gods and men
and stars and trees and language
the time that only spirits and animals
moved through the velvet indigo
of the night sky
and prowled the cosmos alone
to their own songs and laws

He pulled thread from light not yet born
and the black from shadows yet to be cast
and twisted them together
and slowly began to pull her bones into place
and braid and twine her flesh and skin
and hair and eyes
and as her body and shape were completed
he started to weave and sculpt
and form her heart
with the most urgent of care
and within he hid the secrets
of colors to be unseen
and an endless spool of fire
and silk and blood
and the importance of kindness
and compassion

With the last stitch pulled through
and tied and knotted and cut
he had worked himself down
to nothing more than a grain of sand
and dust and wind and he smiled
a tired and worn and complete smile

She was the envy and birth of beauty
and the jealousy and creation of desire
and the first of all dreams and things to come

With her flesh and her limbs and body
and heart complete and whole
and his worn out to near nothing
they made love without their lips touching
or kissing or sighing or moaning
or making any noise at all
and without their hands sliding
or gliding or holding
or their limbs twisting or tangling
or bending or contorting
they plunged through love
and fell into the river
and walked over the mountains
and tip toed past the sleeping gods
of old and forgotten lore
and danced and slept
in the fires of eternity
until she had dreamt of making him
and he had forgotten of making her
and both stories were true
and both only a dream
and some where in the distance of the past
where the time before once lived
and death and dream and love
once fought and lost and won
the wars and battles of long ago
something smiled and then vanished
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