three husbands
three wifes

don't try to find 'em as
they will have found you
long before nighttime

somewhen in-between-time
yeah baby i know it's fighttime

but don't try to opppose your
destiny as you've been watched
by satellites / surveillance cams /
your friends and your aunts

they're not against you
yet none of 'em is gonna thank you
for nothin' you feel me?

believe it or don't: by the end of the
year YOU gonna say: thank you

welcome to the
you-place

If the
Morning sunshine
     Could speak.

A circle is round.
It has no ends.
Thats how long I've been living with Mesothelioma.

He touches
My hair
All the time,
Plays with the
Edges and
Fragments,
And sometimes reminds me that
"I can braid,
You know."
Sometimes he does.

Sometimes he mimics me
In History class
From across the room,
And he laughs at all my jokes,
Even when they aren't funny,
Just
Stupid.

And occasionally,
When I'm sitting in my little niche
Between his desk
And Ellie's,
Right on the cold tile,
He'll attach his forehead to mine
And just look at me.
Sometimes he'll whisper,
"Nose,"
And point to it,
And I just giggle
And break the stare.

I don't even think he feels it,
The wishing to always be near him,
To have his fingers in my hair
All the time,
And for his laugh to be
My soundtrack.

I don't think
That when he stares into my eyes
He wants to kiss me
As bad
As I want
To kiss
Him.