What's the difference,
between sunshine and rain...

Is it feelings of joy,
or is it feelings of pain...

Like the clouds in the sky,
or the coral in the sea....

Can I find that life,
with you and me....

Is it trials and tribulations,
or is the verdict already taken...

Can god show forgiveness,
or has satan only been faking...

The thought of loving

Brings me to you

Who I carry in my pocket

Like a needle

*** could be joyous

Or, anticlimactic   .

I bring you pitiful news from home where
the large McDavitt family has  a strain of
lice that has become immune to all nit
killing  soaps  and  shampoos; joyous
information is, the clan moved from
the neighborhood.

I stay up for the moons
Quiet gaze
The light by the bedside
Carves shadows of you
Into my bare frame
The air itself is naked
Vulnerable of all scent.
I kissed you thrice,
One on the lips
For devotion,
One on the ribs of
Your teeth,
On the elbow of your
Favourite book.
As all writers do.
I created that arched frame
That pulled your
Tendons tight
To my inked sheets,
Shot you into blind space,
While I teethed on
The bow of your
Fingertips
Our skin tarmac,
There was roadworks
Of our bed.
Toes dancing morbidly
Between bursting stars
While night gulls
And ravens watched
Through the window
Waiting to peck
At the mangled carcass
Of our hearts.

Jenny felt like
Such a ****
As she bent over
And took it
In the ****

Yes, she screamed,
"Im a *****"

Then she
Blew Miguel
Some more

make me *** by ******* my mind;
    seducing my soul

The most awkward five minutes of my life.