only a fool
would sit here, aching
for nothing.

night after night after
day after
day.

and I can't stop
thinking about the one thing
that hints at what may
one day
be.

There's a kind of love, calm, open, merciful,
a strong and tired and peaceful mother for the aching soul,
that brings more pain
then lets it go again
in waves.
As long as we remember to let a broken heart
be an open heart,
its waterfall from the tear
falling upon each gnawing thought
and giving everything
the open heart
can give.

You've kept me awake another night,
meanwhile you slept soundly another night.
I really must
find something else
to think about.
Someone that thinks me back.

Here I'll set down
the rules I'm to follow,
thin threads of
highway lines.
Don't write,
don't ask,
don't invite.
You've said enough, wait
for the reply.
Let him work.
Don't help.
Let him figure you out.
Let him say, "There's something there I want"
"That I can't find in anybody else."
"I must learn how to reach it."
"I must get it for myself."
Let him think about you,
in the middle of the night.
Let him reach out.
Let him reveal himself,
not so casually, not so easily,
let him want more than
easy warmth.
And if he does not
then let him be.
When you're ready for your favorite mind
you'll find it.

Teacup,
Ornament,
Galaxy.
Do not scorn me in your sagacity.
Do not be too nice either way--
you confuse me.
Bell,
Card,
Bird on the wing.
You must suffer to be beautiful.
Not alone--
suffer for me.

Thinking of you,
but the things I’m thinking are really too complicated to be worth sharing,
and anyway the more I think the more I keep ending up back where I started,
and while I’d like to share something with you every time I try writing it down it seems kind of pointless,
so here’s a card to say that I’m thinking of you
which is sort of ambiguous if you think about it
but the picture on the cover helps with that.

compelling