Put out a cigarette.
Lite a new one.
Take a shower.
Drink some coffee.
Quick brush of the teeth.

This is how John Carpenter starts his day.

Start the truck.
Lite a cigarette.
Drive.
Drive.
Lite a new cigarette.
Drive.

This is how John Carpenter goes to work.

Check in with the boss.
Sit down at typewriter.
Lite a cigarette.
Think.
Type.
Type.
Lite a cigarette.
Type.
Type.
Lite a cigarette.
Type.
Type.
Type.
Think.
Stretch.
Lite a cigarette.
Type.

This is how John Carpenter spend the first hour at work.

Repeat seven times.

Check out with boss.
Start the truck.
Lite a cigarette.
Drive.
Drive.
Lite another cigarette.
Drive.

This is how John Carpenter drives home.

Take off his coat.
Lite a cigarette.
Feed the dog.
Cook a steak.
Drink a beer.
Eat the steak.
Drink another beer.
Lite a cigarette.
Watch the ballgame.
Lite another cigarette.
Lite four or five more throughout the game.
Quick brush of the teeth.
Lite a cigarette.
Read.
Read.
Read.
Lite another.
Read.
Read.
Drink some brandy.
Fall asleep.

This is how John Carpenter spends his evening.

Repeat all of this 7,304 times.

This is how John Carpenter spends his life.

And when he has smoked enough cigarettes for a lifetime
and read enough for a life time
and eaten enough steak
and drank enough brandy and beer
and written enough novels
for a lifetime
he will die.
And only Mary Stein will miss him.

You share a namesake with Aphrodite,
the Sea,
that which sparks a flame inside me,
seeks to turn the waves to steam,
to drift away as if a dream upon waking,
to see that there truly is no breaking of hearts,
and to start the making of stars born to be us
through combustion.

The dust and rust on a cosmic sword
without a sheath is bequeathed again to the sea,
and the back and forth of wave and flame
rocks us to sleep;
where the steam weeps
and we meet.

I woke up to find you still lingered on my tongue,
even though you left so long ago,
I felt your kiss every time I puffed on a black american spirit
and I felt your hands every time the river waters embraced my waist.

I would have gone anywhere with you,
if you wanted to trek the biggest, coldest, mosquito eater infested mountain
I swear to God I would have followed you.

I wanted to trace the cupids bow of your upper lip every night
before I went to sleep.
I wanted to take your hand and put it against my cheek
and kiss every single one of your fingertips
because they create magic
because everything you do is magic.

The feel of your soft hands ghosted on the small of my back
as I tried to push your face out of my mind
through empty bottles that make me miss you even more.

I've loved before and I'll love again,
but what would I give to love you and only you for the rest of my life
and I'll wish on every shooting star
and every fallen eyelash
that some way some how,
I'll kiss you goodnight
and help you fight your nightmares that I know come so often.
I'd never want to see you unhappy,
and I swear if you let me hold you,
I'd never let you go.