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Two years ago,
I left you.
I did so under circumstances that were not our fault,
And while I own up to what I've done wrong over our two years of battling,
You have your own owning up to do.

But matter not,
Does that.
I'm coming home now,
Back to the kingdom of love which we called our own.
I know you don't wait up for me,
After all I swore I'd never be back.
But tell me you'll at least leave a light on for me,
Because the night is cold,
And all I want to do is run back to you.
I'm not the man I used to be,
I won't describe you with a love song.
I like to think I'm better now,
I no longer use words to for swords
I don't pick roses just for their thorns.

I know I was distasteful,
And you can't get that taste out of your mouth.
But I've been born anew,
Please give me a second chance.
I let my heart lead me,
And it's leading me to you.
So when I come knocking,
Just open the door?
I'm not going to let her hurt from my actions again.
Gunmetal grey skies
loose leaden teardrop tempests —
Lights in the window
Hello sojourner
You, walking down the freeway
Did you **** a man last night
before riddance took him on his own time
Did you come out of the womb and become a holy judge

I can tell by the look in your eye
You dream of building a house on hard shells and salt mud
Down the shore on the ramparts
to drink from the debris and float in the cyclone
You don't cut your flesh
But you feel, every time the tide hits the rocks

Goodbye sojourner,
Are you done with the mountain?
Did you watch a bird of prey as it glides,
and envy the freefall more than the flight?

If I told you I rooted out time  
Held it by the horns, knocked it out
A lifetime landlocked, would you go gentle?
On a pinnace, through the gulf.
You would go a sailor,
moored into the chasms below
I lose my shape, shattered
In turmoil, deeply battered
Beneath my veil, head bowed and tattered.

I lose my way, defeated
In steps that forget to plead,
In anger blind to its misdeeds.

O Master of the Universe,
I am lost,
Forgotten the path of obedience.

O Ruler of the Horizon,
At Your door, I knock in submission,
To embrace the light of devotion.
In his arrogance, he promised her the World

In his defeat, all he could afford her was his heart

In reality, his heart was all she ever wanted

It meant the World to her
https://youtu.be/83d1IqChBmw?feature=shared
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thank you.
To God I pray for all her life
That she would stay inside this life
I know You'll come but don't know when
I pray refine her before then

That she may be in life past death
That You will bless her every breath
That You would bring her home once more
That You would give her life once more

Right now she's flat she has no hope
I pray You'll guide her from above
And
Keep her safe
Please
the raw confusion of the nucleotide fusion,
the great concoction of recombinant DNA,
when we cross over our own boundaries
and subsume, integrate, reformulate our
very selves, with inhalation complete of
another human being; the danger’s inherent,
absorbing a foreign body totally is the creation of a new being entire, vulnerable
despite the new totality of the resources of
two hearts acquired for mergence

and the rush of two different bloodstreams
now circulating, stronger by far, and equally
vulnerable to diseases never prior considered,
these tissues patches, interwoven skins, two
fabrics, silk and wool, a smooth itchy, that
makes us stronger with yet unknowns of weaknesses, and then we encounter what
cannot easily be digested, comprehended,
for even new cells split apart, and the terrible
terror of dividing division that is the side effect of integration, new subdivisions never
ever forever foreseen cause volcanic tremors
and trusting your other half is awful,
until the fear subsides

this is the why
I write of
only love poetry,
the study of this process
so poorly and powerfully
misunderstood
is the atom bomb
of the human psyche

in rivers dark we travel,
oars with cotton muffled,
for there are dangers on each bank,
and in the waters beneath
the salt and the fresh
excitingly & violently blending,
different weights
somethings fall to the bottom,
others rise to the top

and when the process is nearly resolved
(for never ending,
by default defined,
for end is a conflict
constant
interrupted by truces fraught,
fragrant and vulnerable)

this then
is living,
this physic of the
bio-il-logic process
called love,
and the endlessness
that it requires

the inconstancy
of the
constancy
of the
deepening well,
and the
redemption of
redefinition
of what is
well


<>

2:10pm
nyc
10/21/24
music
———
“Sometimes Whrn We Touch” Dan Hill
“Total Eclipse of the Heart” Bonnie Tyler
“By the Rivers Dark” Leonard Cohen
Made a bruised heart wait out in the cold
Had it sag down
On your streets where there were no justice
Only merciless dogs trembling in their skin
For so violent an unbelonging
Such a vain act of expelling
Came from your seat, your house
Cold hearth
The ones you bore waiting waif
Out on your streets, in concrete embellish
the ones you could not take home
Orphaned and fooled
Ding ding ding
Hearing of the death bell ring
And honor dies bleeding
But not a love lost
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