Blessed will be the day, No clouds will be gray, Month will be hot as May, Incantations the priest will say, We will 7 times go 'round the flame, Thence we wouldn't be in any fray, All coming to our life will be love.
Love Always the tunnel the end of it all bursting through like shrapnel the city lights singing the perfect song as the wind snaps along
Love Always the Glory Days and the songs that capture them and the stages that make them and the plays on the field that will be played and replayed for a lifetime
Love Always the island of misfit toys where bubbles cause as much awe as the eighth that inspired them from the Big Boy to the eighteenth green you will all make my typewriter
Love Always the holidays the people around the table and the t.v. too stubborn to speak their cares both the M * A * S * H episodes and the long rides home
Love Always the books the books and the characters and the morals and the books and the teachers that shared them we accept the love we think we deserve
art is what we made that night the moon clinging to your ceiling mediating between crescent and full shadows splayed around our shoulders release was the sheets tossed aside the emptiness of your loft seemingly brimming there was no headboard from which to shake the dust but we sounded through moaning between sepias sweating between echoes
I would love to capture you someday to remove these moments from the dark room and add them to a collection as something to truly admire
This first line pleaded for me to write but unsure how I feel about the result
the technicalities of technique find cracks where there is no fault in cracked faces etched with smiles and written so it is that syntax is but confused hindsight that youth is but confused ____ ...well just confused