sky’s tear softly falls,
cradled in the leaf’s embrace—
whispers of the dawn.

breath of quiet earth,
awakes in the morning light,
life stirs, tenderly.

Our stomachs weren't made to be flat
They were made to keep our food

Our arms weren't made to be thin
They were made to hold the ones we love

Our noses weren't made to be small and cute
They were made to smell the world

Our thighs weren't made be skinny
They were made to help us walk

Your body is being a body
Thats what it's supposed to do
I need to remind myself that
I think so do you

~a companion poem to
Marry Me! -(I am-in-love-with-you) (1)~
wherein was writ:

“here I stop
lest I die of  bursting, and yet I weep
for us, for you,
no longer
read my poetry”
<>

another winter’s day cruelty,
for this wretched refuse of a
former man
who
once could,
who even deemed
owner of a loving teeming,
who adored kneeling,
before love’s altar,
sacrificially, heroically

once in possession of
amazing grace, (2)
but now no longer such
in his scriptures
deeded,

for our save-by-day ,
appears, before my eyes,
so informing my love permit
has now time~expired

I once was found,
but not
once more,
but
once again,
refamiliarized with
loss
wretched and wrenched,
so I punch up at the sky,
and the sky,
like you, my love,
doesn’t punch back,
and now we are in
aggrieved agree:

there is no returning
to where
we graced each other,
so one more poem I’ll
prepare
so let it be,
the “we”
will be momentarily -
but not ! ever lastingly

but for a well~timed
very finite infinity
be returned
to coexist
and let
grace be extended
even surreptitiously

for we
to separate,
sub divide our souls,
in a graceful manner:

why this last act,
a hallmark of
what once
stood for
us,
was,
and perhaps then,
you will read:

my only love poetry
once moreover,
with com-passion
and even tiny teeny seconds
of memorized affection,
and that would be an
amazing grace