Bury me with the River Spirit.
Frozen underground,
surrounded by snow
in the heart of the canyon.
Let it hold me next to the babbles,
the falls, in the trees and among the cabins
I can't hear or see.
On my knees howling at the sun,
it shines down and
stings my frostbite.
Dead in the ground
when the canyons fail,
the waters halt and
all things fall and
I won't see you.
All things are harder to find
when you are in a wooden box
and buried.

The sweet smell of raisins
fresh from the pack.
A lit cherry is a beating heart.
The wet end is as good
as kissed lips.
It makes my legs loose and
trembly like love.
Leaves me breathless and
achy.
Smoking scares you.
I smoke for inspiration,
the pains remind me I am alive,
and I'm not suppose to live forever.

The Dentist's Assistant at
the Dental Clinic
is without man.
For the 15 years I've gone there
she has watched movies
and has been single.

She has a rabbit.
Her life revolves around
her DVR and
trips to Disneyland,
but the needle that holds her spinning universe
up
is that rabbit.

Like an immovable Jenga brick,
one as stone,
the one that can't be pulled,
held onto so tightly by the other bricks --
their love.
But with enormous force, you can tear it apart.
That one little brick and the whole tower
collapses. Smashing the table.
Destroying her.

The simplest way to **** someone is to tear out their heart
and show it to them.