"THOSE Platonists are a curse,' he said,
"God's fire upon the wane,
A diagram hung there instead,
More women born than men.'

Counting the individual panes on a window , handles on a night stand and a chest of drawers .. Sixteen points of reference on a light switch , the dial tone is in the key of F major and I prefer to be alone ! Do you know what I'm going through , a play upon words just like I always do , in sequence , order in life to me is all about the timing ..Can you relate to counting your way through the day for the sake of having some form of control or say ? To hold your left elbow with your right hand and check each window for field of vision , recount the screws on the back of the television ?

14 years ago?
I was getting
off the bus walking
up the stairs
thinking something
was off
all day.
The low voices
The lower eyes
I was getting off that yellow bus
walking up those stained stairs
as an anxious new brother
Her feet were in the air giggling.
My mother said
(almost from the other room)
"Something has happened."
I went to make a joke
and then saw the television.
I thought it was a joke.
I wondered why.
Now I wonder how
one act of evil justified another
and another and another and another
And when
it will end.

Desire,
what love I shed on thee,
but fair has fate,
which scowls at me.
You look in a mirror,
your face in distress,
the mirror sees gruesome,
though I only see the best.
You sob out your envies,
I bring back it's head,
the sweetest smell follows,
though the fairest is dead.
I deliver the creams,
that best symbolize you.
They are each filled with mystery
which you fancy with no clue.
I don't beg you be grateful,
As you I be most the same.
If I were showered with love by one,
I'd seek the others for fame.
I don't doubt your elegance,
nor the great curve that cracks you face.
No, I know your lost within their minds,
but I hope I am not misplaced.
For I love what I feel,
but you love what you see.
I am no bound servant,
though nay I wish to believe that of me.
I love my love,
and she love me.
I love my love,
so she love me.
So shall I stay,
for infinite.
Gazing at her beauty,
that she may never see.

I opened the door to my shriveled home
and in pranced radiant Love in a drunken frenzy,
ranting about heart-to-hearts and self-hugs.
I grunted in accordance and she laughed me away.
Her eyes beckoning, arm extended, wine in hand, she sang,
"You had me standing out in the rain for way too long.
Drink this while I build the fire  
and remind you that in here is where I've always belonged."

Do you remember that night?
Not that night,
but the night where everything was
simple,
peaceful.

We layed on the trampoline,
it was around 30 degrees outside.

I was cuddled into your side,
your body is always warm.

We stared at the stars.
I can't tell you for how long,
but it felt infinate,
neverending.

Jupiter peaked through an abundance of trees,
you pointed and asked
what planet that was.

I told you of my favorite constellation
and showed you.

Do you remember my favorite
constellation?

More importantly,
do you even remember that night?