you move the sun closer to me
and that has no disaster.
your All is the wet funk of my Yes.
the graven image of a total thing -
masquerading as ****** glint
of my " just asking " without the  burden
of my suspicion. only the wonderful
of my submission.
You.
You are the One
that Two
looks up
too.

you march into my femur. break my bones
where the soul is course and rancid.
where the Always has no Answer
but the Never has as a
Speech.

you move the Sun closer to Me.

you bring me joys that hate
and mutter the rumple
of lesser men
who have no Love.

you join the disjoint
and mock the cradle
of our discontent
with the spectacle
of our humble
What ?

you move.

you move the sallow fortunes of our weakest
too the strong weeping
of our dire " of course ".

the code. Morse, may be... but the dots
align in the ragged farse
of our profuse jungle.

we are these monkeys
lifting hammers
we cannot claim
but we have stars
that march
against
the verity
of our lies
to preach
the brevity
of our almost
in love.

with an up-close sun.