someone
that plows intimacy by the use of words

someone
that imagines by the use of words

someone
that touches by the use of words

someone
that cries by the use of words

someone
that dies by the use of words

someone
that hates by the use of words

someone
that loves by the use of words

someone
that kills by the use of words

someone
that wakes  up by the use of words

someone
that heals by the use of words

someone
that you know by the use of words

someone
that you want by the use of words

someone
that paints, lives, teaches, grows, speaks,
works, hugs, cleans, protects, keeps, creates, listens, ...
by the use of words

someone
that makes the world rise by the use of words

In a deciduous forest
a coronach was composed by the
horrendous night, as
a venomous exiguus creature
was waiting for an incursion.

Each one sat on a bane rock, facing
how silence installed in the most disabusing way.

It was convenient, and conning ...

Melan,  we are, in the final analysis,  alone---
our flowering and withering is our own doing-
there's none to blame.

We should never betray or disrespect our self-
we live and die in our uniqueness and should not be afraid to declare at the end:
I have treated my self with dignity despite my frailties and failings--
I have lived!

You say you won't cry
(and you know I know why),
But you will.
When memory reminds you
Of our life and thrills,
Our talks of love
In the park on the hill.
Our fear for our children,
Our love for each one,
Our love for each other
Before our love was gone.
You say you won't cry,
But you know you will.