I’m a propagation of
my oldselves, born anew.

Every broke & breaking Me,
  rooted loose or deeply
in the ground, neatly plowed:

a new timeline.
—I’m Prolific!
I spill, over, over;

mended heart,
A tempered shoulder,

Each node of mine,
Stuck
in the ground; water
luck and a blessing

The world is very vicious
violent
cold, and quite alone.

And so to find something so gentle —
that gentleness, I think, is bliss.


Not sure.

I’ll let you know.

incredible,
incapable:
a feeling that's unshakable
like Fate, you know
(it’s make-believe.
Sensational
like seeing things)
So gratefully and
hateful, I am
stirring in my sleep.

so Crucial.
incandescent—
I'm a piece of work
progressing I'm
unsynthesized,
incessant
I’m a Wreck:
an honest blessing.

no illusion,
there‘s no losing
so my pain is
of my choosing
in the end but
Not for now,
if I could soothe
myself somehow,

like to rebreak so to reset it;
Forgive so to forget, I cannot say
I understand
but, ever woefully
I get it.

drill
. deep,
. drip
slow.

sweet,
. distilled &
. crystalline
flow.

outdid yourself, truly,
politely with neatness.
it’s yours now,
. the sweetness,
. please take it and go.


dark &
delicate.
deliberate,
. divine.

tapped some pure purpose
right out of my spine!

like sugarcane grasses,
from sorghum,
molasses;
congrats man,
. you did it —
it’s yours now, not mine.

∙

I want to feel love for myself
like I look for in someone else,

I’m good, enough—
I’m brave, I’m tough!
Courageous, rough and
dangerly, abrasive
when I’m made to be;
(at least I’m not afraid to be.)
I’m “always, always”: faithfully
and double-downing loyally,
allegiant as if royalty
— You Are to me:
who'll ever be,
so already, I weep.


I want to love all women
like my mother never did
and I want to love the children
like I wanted as a kid
and could give or take a man for now
I‘m focused — have a plan, but if
you tap my love like sap just know,
it’s sweetest from my hands.


I want to love, just want to love—
a gift and curse from hell above
caught in this vessel I am wrestling
so I get all tangled up.

Imperfect love, but that’s enough;
I’m purely love and that is something.
My intention keeps me bumbling while
I figure out what’s what.