So I told her
That I love her

And she told me
that she doesn't know
how she feels about it
but she does enjoy

our conversations
our talks late into the night
our small openings into
each others minds

and that was enough for me
to keep me
happy(?)

I get happy sometimes.
Right now I'm happy.
I like it.
It's refreshing.
The happiness fills me.
Right to the top.
I love it.

Happiness is a tub of ice cream
Waiting to be eaten
Not some cute love story
Where every word was sweet

Happiness is reading a book
Waiting for each exciting chapter
Not some confession
Where every word is so predictable

Happiness is a teddy bear
Waiting to be cuddled every night
Not some bouquet of flowers
Where everyday was a life sentence

Happiness is spending time with friends
Waiting everyday to hang out
Not some time with a guy
Wherein you can't define him just as happiness

Cause he's not just your happiness,
He's your everything

I fell asleep to the sound of the ocean

the waves reminded me of the way you repetitively touched me -

softly and fiercely, all in one motion

and I wish I could feel that same exhilaration one more time

{hjl}

i took a little trip to the local zoo
to look at all the animals there were quite a few
i saw a  little monkey pull a funny face
then he popped his eyes out like something out of space
he was very friendly and gave a little smile
i was so amused i stayed there for a while
then the zoo man came time for him to eat
he climbed up a tree to have is little treat
this it made me hungry and time for my tea
then i said goodbye and he waved back at me
i thought about my visit to the local zoo
i will go again to take another view

There’s a strong urgency in *******.
The longing for there to be another human body
pressed up against your own, so much so you envision
it vividly in your mind, painting hundreds of
thousands of scenarios until you find one just right
for your hand,

for your body.

It's not about pleasure, but about that momentary loss of place and time,
a further commitment to your imagination but
to your loneliness as well.

with quiet mischief;
on the brink of sanity
sleeps insanity

Every night I lie awake
And every day I lie abed
And hear the doctors, Pain and Death,
Confering at my head.
They speak in scientific tones,
Professional and low—
One argues for a speedy cure,
The other, sure and slow.
To one so humble as myself
It should be matter for some pride
To have such noted fellows here,
Conferring at my side.