and because you do I get to get lost without my long running friend: that urge to explain/destroy my own machinery (I mean intrinsic mechanism) or I mean something else and betterer and more accurate and
Who am I without the ceaseless explaining?
Who are you to come so fully loaded (like Herbie the ******* Love Bug) ?
(Ah) comes the balm of genuine curiosity. I have been so long falsely expert.
I am just beginning. Stupid and frankly new.
a poet friend and I are writing bad poems back and forth to each other because we are both just entering the phase of "I think I'm in love" and this is a very good time to write shamelessly into the tremor