We yell self righteous notes
When we peek within everyone is dying of sin
Broken is the helping hand
Let's pretend to be complete

You told me
(As I laughed at you for
Your draining phone memory)
That you have 7,936 images
Because you photograph everything
You fear losing.
                            I can't help but notice
                            In all our 2,190 days
                            You never took a photo of me,
                            Once;
                           ­ I suppose there isn't room
                            In your memory
                            For me.

if only we would love  
with our eyes
closed
and our hearts
open

we would not see
the outer shell

we would simply
fall in love with
the soul
the spirit
the heart
before us

for the rest
eventually falls away

Like a raindrop down a window
or a rope down a well
I didn't mean to fall
But once I started I couldn't help it