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the deed is done
the war's lost and won
all is now fine
in this little land of mine
observing from afar
            but not too close for fear of my entire
            whole world crashing to nothing

listening to how things are
            but never saying anything because in the
            grand scheme of things, i know nothing

seeing others' happiness
            but feeling nothing myself, for
            to me, everything is nothing

smelling in the air success
            *but never having a taste of my
            own since i do and am nothing
i walk among the living
but do not quite belong
no, i am not dead
i'm simply hardly alive

i get by every day
going through the motions
not feeling many emotions
without the interactions
that others are so accustomed to

i feel so lost
so alone
missing out on life
and i wonder why

**why can everyone live but me?
motivation? I have none
yet so much has to be done
I've got my whole life ahead of me
just have to surpass this one moment to be free
free, at least until another day
when I have lots more work and no play
.


Except that

RAIN

rhymmes with

PAIN


&

Is a poetic image of it





:::::::::::





A girl


This is the image used to signify

The total essence

Of
Humanity


////


SHE WALKS IN THE RAIN

///

Yes

Yes



She certainly does



X
It lasted forever

the moment when
you felt his
whisper  
the innuendo of
long ago moons

His eyes
seeking
to taste
you where the
dark lingers

He inhaled every
scented note of you
kept you open and
fingered you
like a song
 Sep 2016 fruit and honey
Ben
You and I
Temporary

This house we sit in
Temporary

The love we share
(As strong as it is)
Temporary

All the skyscrapers in the world
Temporary

The streets and the sidewalks
Temporary

Every law, speech, and right
Temporary

Every person you pass on the street
Temporary

The piles of bills and gold hidden away behind massive vault doors
Temporary

The pain of a particularly bad day
Temporary

Every mistake and every triumph
Temporary

Your inclinations, opinions, and habits
Temporary

The ghost and the shell
Temporary

The printed words of men long since dead
And long since correct
Temporary

Every thick, coppery, snaking trail of blood
Every minuscule globule of spittle
Every boiling, salty tear
Temporary

The hatred of every person in every place in the entire world
Combined into one stinking stream
(As strong as it is)
Temporary

The soil that has run through your hands
The sand through the hourglass before it is flipped again
The rain that falls on humid August days
The whistling of the wind through broken windows panes
The sneaking of weeds tendrils through cracks in asphalt
Temporary

All
Forever
Temporary
 Sep 2016 fruit and honey
Ben
They'll have no carcass
Not when our collective trash
Is up for picking
 Sep 2016 fruit and honey
Ben
The fact that everything
Is born apart
But then returns
To the whole
Is maddening
Fulfilling
Hollowing
Frightening
And
Satisfying

All this from a day
Below 95 degrees.
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