Six-shooters are holstered, swords are scabbard, arrows are un-nocked, blades are sheathed.
Not in the course
Of one petty conflict,
But comparatively throughout history.
There is more intergovernmental cooperation,
More trade and tourism,
More declarations and treaties.
The common person
Has greater breadth of movement
In travel of classes & region.
The ignition of all these dormant conflicts
Will not lead to any new or better resolution
But, more likely than not,
More conflagration & revolution.
To win or to lose
In a game of confusion
With the strategy of lies & ambiguity.
Better than to limply concede
And forfeit all claim to belief
In what you fought to seat.

And in fifty years from now
Some blasted fool shall say:
The ignition of all these dormant conflicts
Will not lead to any new or better resolution
But, more likely than not,
More conflagration & revolution.

“I love you.” he said, his voice raspy and emotional.

“You..?” I asked softly, and he nodded yes, slowly.

I kind of moved him away a bit - with a soft stiff-arm - to see him better in the limited light. He looked serious and a little flushed, as if feverish. I examined his face, looking for insincerity or jest but saw none. Perhaps this “love” could use some examination.

“Would you convert to Judaism for me?” I asked

He looked surprised and a little confused. “Are you Jewish?” He asked, hesitantly.

“No.” I answered. He still looked confused.”I’d be proud to be Jewish,” I clarified. “or to have a Jewish boyfriend.”

“Then.. why would I need to convert?” He asked, squinting with concentration.

“We were examining your sumptuous commitment to love.” I said, “forgetaboutit.”

I want to steal your kisses,
And your time,
And your love.
I want to breathe in your air,
And your feelings,
And bits of your soul.
I want to inhale your history,
And your sadness,
And your happy.
I want to wrap my arms around your shoulders,
And your heavy heart,
And your splintered spine.
I want to take your heartbreak,
And your worry,
And your tears.
I want to wipe away your jutted lip,
And furrowed brow,
And damp cheeks.

I want to steal every single part of you,
And only give back,
The good stuff.