Dear Lord,
If you are here to pull my strings and topple me down,
And I truly have no hope against the immensity of your meddling hands,
You can just bet
That I will give you one fantastic fight.
Show me enough times that this life is for me to crumble
And I will make it my constant mission
To be nothing but a pain in your ***.
I will struggle, I will protest, I will rise again every ******* time
Until you cut me off at the knees
And then I'll crawl.
I've got nerve in spades
And don't you doubt it.
Apparently, after all, you put it there.
You yanked out my batteries and thought I'd drone down to a drained-out death
But you forgot to take my nerve back,
The little gritty sharp current that reanimates me,
That spark that means
I would use my last breath to rebel, defiant, against my demise.
You might be the Divine Winner
But I aim to misbehave.
I aim to be the hardest conquest you ever attempt.
Drag me to hell kicking and screaming,
Or heaven, if you prefer-
I'll fight you just the same,
To stay
Right
Here.
...Amen.

I spent today reeling you in.
                     threads of your silk love
fluttered through the air  
                     like broken, escaped spider webs

                                                  how can you be at once everywhere and nowhere?
                                                        ­            on an old voyage moment
                                                        yo­u rebuked me:
            “You’re looking with the wrong eyes,
my dear”
              But my eyes don’t dart differently.

                            I sit with the innumerable knots of your
                                                                ­         miscellaneous elations.
                                                       I sift for the ends to start
                                    unraveling, adapting
                         but maybe you are just one continuous
Idea

             as lo
ng as we’
     re
tan
         gled,

                              Bind
                the­ fibers of my physical being
                              catch
                   ­       the flapping petals
                                         falling from my
          composed mannerisms

                      stitch
                 your whimsy
                                          into each atom
                                     of my salient figure-

fuse your feathered fabric
into my most raw elements.

                               My life is a matted disarray
                                  of your truest notions-

A yarn Mount choreographed from
the diminutive strands
of your blinking captured freedom

                                    I spent today reeling you in-

So- entwine me, Love,
net me forever, Sweet,
my dearest jumble to disentangle

Look at you all-
off dancing in another hemisphere,
sewing pockets of sunflower
every footstep you take

Between the three of you,
you wrap my heart in a neat little
Christmas package?
Birthday present maybe-
crisp and prim like a pudding.

though there are seconds of minutes of days
where seeds of your image, droplets of your countenance
shatter my inhale or obstruct my vision-momentarily
I feel as if it were I that planted you
in the funny other hemisphere-
surrounded you with soily sunny happiness
*just to watch you grow

Stickysappy
pupils
gather images
withoutbeneath
classically
trained “understanding”
Blinking colored pixalfree
(nonsense.)
everything inside- Happy
out of focus

But believe me
(when I say)
You do not see
as well as I do,
with your
*Unadulterated Vision.

I love you like the first lemon I tasted
you stormed into my life
                             (like the sour in my face.)

        you changed the expressions I choose to wear too…
but instead of making the grimace-squeeze face of
                            acidic lemon

                                              I tend to be too busy smiling.

Dear Best friend.
                       I cried today.
Not because you left me dancing in
                another hemisphere.
Not because I receive one paragraph
       of sparse-nothing information
                   from you a week.

Nay-

I cried because
you are the kind of best friend
who wafts beside me
                                                                            (like that time we led each other with our eyes
                                                                                                                             closed through the
                                                                                        crowded theme park-full of nonchalant
                                                                                                                        cotton-candy-people)
in all my sly, lively moments
and exerts more merry influence upon my wanderings
than all the other

7 billions souls on this               [The Foolish Blue Globe]
put together.