Like a can
I desire to open myself up
So that someone may taste
And partake in the difference
But none can see
No none can see
At least I believe
In the difference in me

Like a paddle lean
Cut the water with yourself
And dig it deep as I have

That way you may not forget yourself
Within this tidal swirl
The wave of life and the currents underneath

The amount of work this is going to take
Both inside and out, and out again
To build this way
Is significant

And the sad thing is
I'm not even comfortable enough to say:

"When you're working here
Would you lay these bricks a certain way?
That way I will feel like myself
When they're underfoot
In the days to come"

I struggle just to say such things
For fear of the constructed persons way

The ocean is grand
The woods are wild
And my eyes are as shallow as the puddles in the summer's rain

But my words are insufficient
And my words are inadequate
When it comes to expressing such things

The trueness of the heart and how it beats  
The clearness of your words and how they ring
Endlessly in my hollow ears

It's getting better
But every time the sun sets
On another age
Another opportunity
My heart sinks
A few inches more
Deeper into my chest

Although there's nothing more to be done
I wish that such things would pass me by
And leave my heart alone at last

Although it's getting better
I wonder what will remain of me
And who I will be
If I survive to see it pass

The truth is not at the bottom of a cup
Nor beneath the Saucer underneath

No words can hold the sacred truth
Just as two cups cannot guarantee
That two minds will ever meet

No, the truth is out there on each table
Waiting for all who would simply sip

The truth that is, the truth is this
That regardless of wherever we may be
The truth is something that simply is

Much like this coffee
Honest with a breath of heat
Or possibly even cold and sweet

Such truth is always percolating
Even if we cannot taste or see
The words of God, resting gently underneath

No words will ever say or stay
The chilling storm
The quiet calm
Or the persistent want which cannot be reached

No
Words can only bridge those gaps
Which wish to be bridged  

Because storms give way to rampant floods
Which wash away the builders hopes
When poorly built

In such instances as these
Words are not always the best way
To build and begin again

No metaphor will tell it
Although I convince myself within the moment
That it will last

That the clouds above my head
The howling wind which I adore
The summer rain and the glorious morn
Will indeed last

But they never do

Because no metaphor can contain
Or stretch it over the canvas to fit
Or even begin to properly paint
This representation known as you

You simply are, as simply is
Beyond the metaphor
Within the shadow of a moonlit truth

When I look into the mirror, I am more than what I see.
I see the past, I see the present, I see the future...I see me.
I see the ideas and the ideals, the fleeting notions in-between.
I see it all within the mirror, although the mirror, isn't the only thing I see.
I see myself and my old image, I'm nothing special you can see.
I look within to see my reason, and portray a look to pretend I've seen.
But...this isn't a mirror set before me, it's just a doorway next to me.
Two sets of glass, a single person, a dual-reflection for all to see.

I want to want her like a glass of wine
With an endless taste, and a deep draft
Waiting for me at the end of each day

Bitter and sweet like the summer tea  
With a hint of dandelions, and her hair brushed gently away   

Although this is me...you need not see, or want her in a similar way
But it's best if you could acquire the taste.

Because when you hold an endless glass
You can sit and sip your life away
Without care or concern for those moments past

Slowly like a semisweet
A Merlot or Chardonnay

How I want to want her like a glass of win
So that I can drink her in
And be drunk on her at the end of each day