Crack upon my heart,
the feelings inside that box,
Like wearing out the old memories of my baby socks.

Oops I may have forgotten a few,
so surely what would I do,
Still I find a piece of them while I stare in the eyes of you.
Lest they tell me what only is true,
of these growing feelings I have for you.

And my baby socks still have that stain,
of the dirt I stole from the Earth while I played a game,
As I was so young from the days of feeling no shame,
I lived a life with a different name.

But all things had to change once that feeling came,
can't act like a baby anymore when you have a baby that is your dame.
And once they've become your feelings constant, your baby socks have run out of their fame.

So crack upon that box,
if you wishing to see what's in my heart,
And you may find that hiding memory worn out in my baby socks.

Her head upon my chest
Resting; sobbing
Her arms around me
And mine around her
I know this feeling
I've been there before
I wish I could just take it
Free you of this burden
It's the least I could do for you
To bear the weight of your pain
It's my duty to protect you
Especially when you cannot protect yourself

I taught myself to believe
That you were better than that
That you were not the guy everyone told me you were

I taught myself to believe
That you're mistakes were not the usual you
That you were actually really nice

I taught myself to believe
That you were a genuine boy
And when push came to shove, you cared about me

I taught myself to believe
That you were perfect
And that everything would be wonderful if I could call you mine

But after all that teaching
I learned that I was wrong

i like my body when it is with your
body. It is so quite new a thing.
Muscles better and nerves more.
i like your body.  i like what it does,
i like its hows.  i like to feel the spine
of your body and its bones,and the trembling
-firm-smooth ness and which i will
again and again and again
kiss, i like kissing this and that of you,
i like, slowly stroking the,shocking fuzz
of your electric furr,and what-is-it comes
over parting flesh….And eyes big love-crumbs,

and possibly i like the thrill

of under me you so quite new

The furrier tells the bell by the time of skinning,
Archangels by their clipped wings as they fell,
Statesmen by show of divided hands at plenary ringing,
The wind by quell of truant petals from daffodil.
And even love tells its beginnings and endings,
By lips shorn of lambswool words and yield of bale.
In light or darkness, though our animal souls uprisen,
Still in their wordless and naked measuring dwell.