Warm knees brushing together
     under restaurant tables.
Candlelight, lemon tea,
     broken laughter, faking a blush.

This cough never goes.  It's the same cough my grandfather had in Auschwitz. We both don't have shoes that fit, but nobody cares. Somebody could be a famous keyboard player, a violinist, she may have been good with a pen- all of us our apes now and frozen. Maybe it's you who eats the intestines, heart, and eyeballs. Some say the taste is great, but it won't be I who eats the sight out of anything I've sent into the afterlife. A world of people who send the ****** carcasses blind, dead, and mute bumping into the brimstone walls in the middle Earth. It could be a hollow sounding hell or the sweet sounds of the Elysian fields, but now they are deaf, mute, and blind. These aren't the same persons using all of the hot water when they take their once a week shower. Even she could have showered every day. Even if there was a fire, a shower is safe from a fire. Steam is great for the lungs. Every creak is haunting, every peep is a beast living in the walls. I've been so scared I might never have an ******* again. This past week I got dust for nostalgia two for one.

You should remember this: people who aren't ***** don't wonder if they are or not. Your mom isn't right but everything you've been up to is off-putting, makes us all uneasy, what you're after is very, very wrong for you. You won't know you're wrong until you're tortured watching someone you love going through it. It is so ******* dry in here. This morning I must've blown my nose and coughed out an ounce of grossness. Dried throat problems, soot, ashy soot, not enough water or miracles, or simple answers to the questions racing through my head over and over. I ask you for an answer and all you can say is you're sleeping. Liars are weak at producing results. He is a liar that you are okay with somehow. I thought you might even fake or pretend something to give us assurance. We don't know what to do or what we're doing, but at least we admit we don't have a clue.

The first problem was stealing those sunglasses. $600 for another pair; that's not happening. I paid for dinner for you because you forgot to eat, then when they got it wrong you tried to take it out on me, and when they refunded the money, you kept it. That hardly makes any sense, and it's not the first time you've robbed me when you thought I didn't notice. I just haven't mentioned it because it gives me a bit of a smile watching you glide around your life thinking you're the ****- but really you are the ****. The coolest girl ever, I just wish you saw you the way I do; you deserve more than I think you'll give yourself. Maybe your **** is painted gold, since you still managed to squeeze your hips and lips and smile at the right time. It's nothing. Don't worry about it. When people have tried to fool me, it never happens the way they think it would. I tried to let you know you were worthy of me and that you're worthy of your own happiness and self-worth.  You have always impressed me one way or another. Nelson Mandela may have been a great musician. I've watched women and angels morph into biting flies and fish with ick, I've watched my wife lose her mind, second to that and I thought that was the worst....but second to that was watching you sabotage our trending beauty within one another. To take on someone else's child is like getting The Gift, but more expensive and depressing. I will never respect the way you've come to know him, and I cannot tell you how ridiculous it is to hear you talk about commitment. You're not even committed to yourself yet. But I'm here for you. I'm just going to tell the truth...

So maybe that makes him *** then. Idk i don't care

I love...nevermind

I thought you...nevermind

Are you and her...nevermind

Can I have your...nevermind

Would you like to go on a...nevermind

Do you like...nevermind

You will never know unless you ask

I once saw a man sitting at
the bar of one of my favorite dives,
and he looked so handsome in his
profile,
his lips gingerly kissing a bottle
of craft beer,
his suit fitted just right
against his sculpted
frame.

He stared intently through his
trendy glasses
at the glow of his
laptop screen,
and I imagined he was
reading something involving
important business,
or maybe a book about a
new age philosophy as he
pondered the meaning of life.

He seemed so comfortable
and familiar in his
solitude,
like he traveled often and
had grown to love himself
immensely;
he valued his alone
time.

I imagined he went to some
ivy league school,
like Brown or Cornell,
where he studied business and
made his parents proud.
He still likes to learn and finds
the world to be a
blissfully curious place.

I was enthralled with
the picture I had drawn in
my head as I
gazed at his strong jaw
and white smile,
and I couldn't help but whisper
to my friend how
infatuated I was with the
view from
my seat in our wooden booth,
when my friend chuckled
nervously,
his brows downturned as he
erased all I had
drawn and replaced the
picture with
he's homeless.

Sacred words are left out in stone,
the carved wordings will remain for long.
I don’t see why curiosity, always catches me at the sleeve.
It’s like I am a pet of the devil, wanting to find the light within.
I walk around like the cat, watching every single spark.
I embrace the lovely patterns, wondering when my light will shine.
I saw the gorgeous skies, shade away into purple cloths.
I remember seeing your light, for the very first time.
It shone brighter than anyone’s, I don’t even understand why.
You aren't the greatest, you aren't the best,but neither am I.

I saw the words being placed, down onto the cards to heaven.
I looked at the lanterns, fly away into the sky.
Dim lights of yellow and orange too, remembering how much I loved you.
Death is a sweet embrace, yet why do I yearn for something to waste?
It shone brighter than anyone’s, I don’t even understand why.
I don’t see the point, in disposing love or life.
She walks down the dark road, with traffic lights flashing at her,
she remembers every single day, that she needs to keep on living.
Through every shade, of red, yellow and green she needs, to remember you.
Walking down a path of remembrance, leads into a list of names.
When the first child is bared, she is labelled with your name.

The first power of the Sphinx
is Knowledge.

Science, philosophy, and religion
are the Holy Trinity;
        once a singular discipline,
        broken today into Three
                over differences in
                epistemology:

the First is a narrow window
into empirical space;

        the Following a flexible framework
        in conceptual space;

                the Final, all-encompassing
                on the stage of the soul;

                        neither invalidating
                        nor undermining each other,
                        but Checking and Balancing.

Facts are interpretations;
theories are stories;
storytelling, myth;
myth, the key to Knowledge.

To Know is to conceive.
To conceive is to objectify,
but far from objective:

We understand
what we invent.

                        "All things are Known.
                        What shall we do
                        with what we Know?" ¬

When curiosity is not slain,
but permitted in the vacuum
of the eternal Question,

Then are the journey
and the journeyer
initiated.