Why aren't we perfect?
on this boat in the taihiatian sea
amongst the gardenia planted pots
smothered by it's heavenly fumes
and surrounded by leaping dolphins?

1) you'll mess up my bed sheets
2) I'd make sure everyday you'll have is ****
and 3) because change is hard for both you and me.

but why is it harder to being all alone
-
wild


-
wild



-
WILD




-
with


-
freedom
-
than being with you?


so don't write about me,
when I'm dying and shriveling
and not here
and
this premonition comes true
and
I've
given up.
Write about me now,
alive and well,
desolate and passionate
imploring you to go
exploring with me
in both our
wild

-
WILD


-

ways,
perfect in our imperfect ways
being both brilliantly terrible
and both terribly brilliant.