The Lord is my vending machine,
I shall not be in want,
He makes me to lie down on king size beds,
He leads me beside new swimming pools,
He restores my wallet.
He guides me on paths of self-righteousness,
For my name's sake.

Even though I walk,
Through the ghetto of Silicon Valley,
I will feel no discomfort.
For you are with me,
In my new Ferrari and mace spray,
They comfort me.

You prepare a table before me,
In the presence of my Outback Steakhouse.
You anoint my bread with garlic,
My champagne overflows.
Surely goodness and love will follow me,
All the days of my life,
and I dwell in my three story house,
Until I get a bigger one.

Your chest against my sloped back.
Wind kissing my face,
tips of my feet grazing the sides of those wheels and gears.
I grip you for dear life...

I feel your rhythmic deep, deep breathing against my ear.
Wonder if those are the sounds you'd make if we made love...

Riding on your handle bars,
world spinning, your presence dizzying.
Thoughts of falling...
This is what makes me feel alive.

I met two strangers on the internet, it was a casual encounter.
One threw tirades of capital letters that punctured my screen,
ricocheted off my eyes,
and bounced back through to the second.
One saw the other as "illiturate", which he had no shame admitting.
The other fired back a passionate counter-argument.
So zealous he was in asserting his qualifications,
he didn't even stop for breath. Or to punctuate.
I find it rather prickling that one who could afford a laptop
won't purchase a dictionary instead.

The duel pressed on, 2 a.m.
****** words and harsh assumptions.
One's heart sank, the other's I.Q. paralleled.

We build these walls up so high between us,
and pretend we can't hear the neighbors
who have built their walls pressed against ours.
This is a problem, oh we have so many of those.
Let's make one more and build them up higher
in hopes that the overbearing altitude caves in on us...

I know that my problem is much more dismal than yours--
Just look at how small the opening to my cell is!
The sky looks gray from down here.

We all imprison ourselves into our own self-pitying ignorance
and call it shelter.
We are so unique and different and beautiful
because we are humans.
Humans who know ugly words, and do ugly things
when our originality is challenged.
And even when it's not challenged
because no one dares to admit
that we all plug into the same electrical grid.

With the wink of an eye and a flick of your flame, another Marlboro finds its way from your pocket to my lips. Breathing and burning, smokesighs of relief--

I am too far gone to remember your name.

     But the warmth fills and soothes with every intake of breath. Have another shot--or two...from who? Well now I am ready to take a shot at you, Cute Boy--also known as Law Student From Argentina--and although a small something-someone begins to question me, voices just drown in the buzz towards the back of my mind...where everything sinks. sinks. is siiinnnnking. I feel the full force and am loving the fall. So instead of worrying myself over the (now incoherent) blare of your accented voice spilling questions to my ear...
                                                 (Flash another stupid smile, giggle just
                                                   a little louder.
                                                   It's too late now for the answers to matter.)
I let my head turn over 'til our noses touch.
I brush too close,
you're warm and dark...
And I've already
   given
           up.

"I admire you."
--your words that stick out. The last I remember of--oh, hey now...
(a darkly pleased smile currrrls upon my face):

     Let your hands hold me steady at the small of my back while I lean, a little sloppy, into fresh new lips and learn your strange kiss. Somewhere along the way my fingers comb through your hair...it's almost automatic, the way I move; and I feel the same overwhelming loss of control. The only difference is that I don't know you. Nevertheless, in the next few breaths your lips look to my neck in a soft caress...but for only a moment.

     Because perhaps that's when my sister at last pulls me away; oh, she takes such good care of me. I almost forgot just how much I have missed her...ah.
only
in
passing. because--

     For tonight, my dear, I am far more concerned with guiding my tongue back to yours. (So I do.) And darling, that lovely bottom lip--you just might find it caught in my ravenous bite. (Gentle, now.) These teeth will make you mine. Oh, now if only we were somewhere else, I'd let you--

twenty-nine?
oh.
"eighteen? wow," (and that was a lie...)

I guess, I guess this
should feel wrong?
but still
my smile remains for a while...

     and so do you.

Life is a whole laundry list of worries.
Don't worry, just take it one load at a time.

We're losing the art of writing,
The sensuality of written words on a page,
Too many people are just typing,
Never feeling the words true pain.

The intensity of a letter,
As it flows from a pen,
The ink splotches that mold together,
To tell the story we hold within.

The signature that shows them,
Exactly who we are,
From pen to paper,
From heart to heart.

I lie in bed
Just waking
As the sun whispers gently on my eyelashes
I quietly mumble out, No,
just let me be,
Here in peace,
I am content to be alone
...and that's a lie
that you might not know the reason
behind
these eyes you could see the reasons
in them alone lies the truth
to why I am not okay with my solidarity
to say the least
I'm not going to open up my eyes
they are my only disguise
otherwise
I know
that you'd see
right through me.