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He wore a jacket of mystery
                 and there was nothing more
thrilling
             than making those
zipper teeth
         talk.
distract me said she
it was a yes she heard
and she waited
you seem to be a busy distraction said she
and she knew 'busy' was a light lie she was telling herself
"Why one writes is a question I can never answer easily, having so often asked it of myself. I believe one writes because one has to create a world in which one can live. I could not live in any of the worlds offered to me – the world of my parents, the world of war, the world of politics. I had to create a world of my own, like a climate, a country, an atmosphere in which I could breathe, reign, and recreate myself when destroyed by living. That, I believe, is the reason for every work of art.
...
"We also write to heighten our own awareness of life. We write to lure and enchant and console others. We write to serenade our lovers. We write to taste life twice, in the moment and in retrospection. We write, like Proust, to render all of it eternal, and to persuade ourselves that it is eternal. We write to be able to transcend our life, to reach beyond it. We write to teach ourselves to speak with others, to record the journey into the labyrinth. We write to expand our world when we feel strangled, or constricted, or lonely … When I don’t write, feel my world shrinking. I feel I am in prison. I feel I lose my fire and my color. It should be a necessity, as the sea needs to heave, and I call it breathing."
('The New Woman', 1974)
when i asked you to take me away from

myself you only asked how,

and didn’t sigh like the others

or turn away from me faster than the tide pulls back

from a reluctant shore

i don’t know why i kept coming back

but i’m glad i did and

you didn’t know either but

you accepted me anyways

and eventually grew in my direction

it’s a mystery i’ll never solve why you’re as precious as you are

i will tend to the flower of you

as long as my joints will glide

above our heads the sky is lit up

and it never goes dark

like my mind that is always thinking of you

even at night when the stars come out

my dreams tense up when you appear
My hands
open the curtains of your being
clothe you in a further ******
uncover the bodies of your body
My hands
invent another body for your body.
Have you known someone this life-time
That was here and now is gone?
You remember easily their cheerful-laugh
And maybe took a walk with them at dawn

Does your heart ache for them sometimes?
When you have a moment all alone?
Your memories of time together
Maybe good conversations on the phone

When you look you can see their soulful smile
You remember a warm embrace
You can even recall the times you argued
And the tears streaming down their face

Do you recall how when you were with them,
That with you they were like no-other-friend?
You thought how lucky that-you-were
And wanted to have them with you till the end?

Take a close look right now in your life
And tell me who you'll really miss
It may be a friend you share a coffee with
Or a lover with whom you share a kiss

But in this life you'll meet so many
And in that many there will only be a few
Right now your mind may go to someone
Who truly loves and understands just you

You realize there's something unique about them
Where love and friendship go beyond
And if you knew one day they were here-no-more,
Possibly you'd feel like you just could not go on...

This love, this trust...
It's a closeness that cannot be described...
In truth your souls met and shared one heartbeat,

And today this keeps both of you alive...


©8DaveWonder September 2010
These days have defeated me
The cartographer burned the map meant to take me home
I don't know how I ended up walking in circles
The ground below has a divot where my thoughts have weighed down the soil
I've taken step after step to get where I'm going
The only step left will be the hardest one
I just need to lift my foot off of the ground
To fall
Nevermore, Nevermore
Could I ever be anymore?

Like your heartless shadow
Black soul
Confusion is more than

Real; is false
A false reality?

To just speak again
An open tomb
For you to lie in
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Crawl inside my stomach
But don't listen
To what I say. . .

I won a ghost
In the summer
One seven year

Her tongue was so sweet
    on the nape of my neck
The blood drew a grey skull
    I had no one to expect
Me home

You're wrong.

A spiny claw in my back
Calls out in the black rain
To award the new, new
New stranger into the pain
Into the flood. . .

Believe in not what you see
   But in what is complete. . .

But       ?     complete
       what is
             ?
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