he holds my hand
and spends the night
chasing after dying stars
he smiles
falling for the moon

Adam's hand wrestled and bound:
unsubmitting, defiant, in anger, rages;
The Name of the upper hand is known,
but denied, and the Son of Man blasphemed.

One little hand could not stop the cup from
dropping like a giant on the country wood floor,

“We need a cup factory in this home” I hear the voice of frowning walls

In a fraction of a second, I am the child that breaks the cup.

I want to hide when mother’s voice flows like a honey river
“Leave the child alone, don’t you see that the cup asks for mother’s love”

O,  broken cup filled with mother's love
on the country wood floor.
You loved the child,

“darling take the broom and clean the floor,
when walking no one gets hurt.
Let me know if you do need help”

Her soft voice makes the broom dance and sing, and
the wood floor clean, shining back love to all children that ever broke
the cup,

all we need for lifelong doves is a broken cup
glued with mother's love

You’d think that after
All this time I’ve spent typing,
That I could spell “the”.

Brain gets going way
Faster than my hands and then
Teh the lights go BANG! out.

I’m in a horror
Movie and I can’t break free, can’t stop
This train of thought from

Moving onward, but
Then my dreaded enemy
Appears on teh screen.

Teh red squiggly line,
Object of my nightmares, bane
Of my existence.

I’m forced to stop, move
Teh cursor away from teh
Train, draining seconds.

Must catch up with my
Brain, must… I must… I’m losing
Steam… then another

Teh.

To my future wife,

WE are
a package that’s not promised by the pinky,
      but the ring finger
If God’s index finger, can keep us alive that long
      as we thumb across
            ALL the middle fingers Satan has in store for us
EXPECT broken nails, EXPECT deep cuts
But know when OUR palms touch,
      it takes us getting OUR hands *****
            to build the relationship