With all the innocence of old friends, wrapped in silent hoping, knowing but afraid to believe.  The heart beats a bit faster as the words become free. No longer chained in what came before. Transformed by insight, a vision sent to each of us alone.  And in those words were hidden truths that underlay what came before.  A true affection melts in heat into a fire that burns free.  

With a breath was lit
What had always smoldered there
Ablaze on a wire

Tentative in this new-found freedom. We touch delicately, lingering on the words that electrify the flesh and liquify defenses.  Steam wafting in the air as emotion meets desire.  Intoxicated by the ethereal beauty of it all. Left reeling, hearts traded, souls tangled and the lascivious nature of what was once hidden ravages the senses.

Death is such an empty word;
Say it to yourself right now.

Death.

And the lives it takes;
The lives it leaves behind.

Sorrow.

That's another empty word.
We never truly forget.

I will miss you.

Heaven is a nice word.
It brings a degree of comfort.

I let ivy try the trunk, green all winter
yet buds haven't come with warm weather
it'll rot and drop this summer
or next, if it's too dry

I'll pretend surprise
as I oil the saw again, strike teeth with a file
left on the old tool bench downstairs...
one last time, I think, as we're all showing our wear

it's still tall, met the sky once
when it left - I heard the sigh
but turned and went back to sleep
imagining nothing but cutting until morning

[I understand Shakespeare played every role around his theatre such as managing the theater, acting, directing, playright, etc, etc.  Too many responsibilities for one man.  He was treasurer and everything else.  What did he didn't do?  Was that true about him I ask in all humility]

William Shakespeare, wordsmith king…
Some people doubt he did all things.
Such teeming thoughts for just one man…
Perhaps Chris Marlowe had a hand
Among some others underfed
Who sold their work to buy some bread.
And Will for one bought many plays
Then claimed the work through present days.
No sweat upon his brow rolled down…
For those he claimed for shills and pounds.
That system shorted men with skill
And all those credits went to Will
And though the man was very great
He kept the profit on his plate

I’ve always looked at dancing girls.
I think that all men do.
I drool at scenes
Like tight blue jeans–
Until they fade from view.

Where pretty girls are showcased
I’m sure to raise a toast
Cause a derriere
Might make me stare
Till I become a ghost.

And, yes, it’s like a candy store
When beauties crowd the beach
Because a teeny
And snug bikini
Make my right and left eyes meet.

For I lo-o-o-o-o-ve to goggle long long legs
Whereever I may roam
And if they're cute
I will weigh the fruit
But I always boogie home

I know you can if you think you could
But should you should? I wish you would...

So leave Seuss for the children and open your mind
When you look through your heart I’m sure you will find
There is a driving force, painful and past
That propels your engine, rhythmic and fast

It stokes your fires, it paves your way
It gets you through the miserable days
But people will come and bring something new
They will see your progression and see that you grew

But with this same fuel you will churn on and on
And in this tried method you will still meet the dawn
But alone in the darkness you will think, and think hard
About the new people and you put up your guard

They come with new meaning, they bring a new day
They come with intention but meet them halfway
You could find a new method although you’re inclined
To move as you’re going and not lose your mind

But people will come, you could choose to give way
Or in this great madness of course you can stay
But to try something new, and dare I say fail
You shimmy away, afraid to derail

But time will press on, there is naught you can do
To keep them from coming, curious about you
Into the tunnels, yourself you could cast
But you can’t change what’s done, the past is the past

...So hear what I say and consider it true
Although you may struggle, only you can change you.

Being less than nothing to someone
Means being more than everything.
If they have to think that hard
To hate you that much,
To have such an intense dislike
There has to be some passion there,
You don't forget the ones you hate.