A prion.
A parasite.
A writhing mass.

It is woven into one,
not by needle,
nor machine,
but by absence.

It is kind.
It destroys the mind.
It seeks a way.
Yet hated it remains.

Silently within,
pulsating with darkness,
twisting with curiosity,
it craves mercy.

A decay and a rot,
one not of flesh and bone.
This is one of isolation,
this is being alone.

You used to be the place
Where I’d unravel all my sins
Now I don’t know where to start
Because I don’t know where you end

One place
One house
With a view
Big kitchens
Lots of bedrooms
To talk
To write
To meet
Ben and Carlo do you read me
Nat and others

Please attend next month's meeting.
Love to see,meet,and hear you.

She listened as her eyes were going to close.
She longed to listen and see her fellow poets.
The New York soul needed to say Goodnight.
The City never sleeps but she does
Her pens and notebooks at her side on the night table
Pleasant dreams HP til next month

A live once lived, once lost, once gone
Eyes forever closed, keys to everywhere
The heart, the pain, the memories
Forever lost with the keys