I hold my breath at the crest, the release and return of my body into your body into her body into a night full with the drumming of an artificial pulse, a pulse beating through and through our chests and out through the sway of limbs like seaweed caught on the current, reaching up and up and up towards the exultation of continued existence, momentary wholeness, whole, swallowed whole, we find our home in the belly of a whale, eaten by the motherdarkness, eaten, we are eaten and broken dowwwwwwndowndown into the bodies of a thousand strangers held in the sway, tribute paid, to be freed, even just for the length of a song, from the lonesome burden of individuality.

I never mastered the grind.
That won every girls affection.
I guess it's really quite difficult.
When you become your own deflection.

Once I was that nineteen year old.
Drunk and disorderly.
Grinding on your back.
You got bored of me.

Sure its fun - for both it seems.
Sometimes it's a horrid match.
A silly game with an undefined winner.
Sometimes it's all you need to land your catch.

But as you grow you see things clearly.
The smoke machined air thins and the lights begin to brighten.
You see the complexity of your dilemma.
You've assumed you'd get it all - what a great big error.

You want the beauty you've desired night long.
But you've gone about it all wrong.
You want the companion most never find.
But will she see it or remain blind.

It seems one is possible.

Where do I go to be one whole person?

She was the sun,
He was the sky
She was the answer
He was the why
She was the poem
He was the pen
She was the party
He was the when

He was the instrument of her fine music.
She was the maker of his ideas.

Paint without canvas
Rhythm without soul
Only together could Life become whole.

I am letting my eyes bleed from my heart until there's none left for me to shed.

I am squeezing everything I feel until I am dried up so that I may become whole again.

*God, hold my heart tight enough so that pieces will stick back together again; and it may become whole again.

They say that we're all just halves
Of what we are supposed to be...
But tonight, I am whole.


-- Eleanor

I remember when we knitted
Our fingers together
And our lives interwove.
They eventually became whole,

And they eventually broke.


-- Eleanor

You are a whole ocean inside my mind.
Your name pulses through my bloodstream in waves.
I hope it’s the same for you.
And our heartbeats pump out of rhythm for now,
but if we ever meet again,
I hope our individual stories will finally fall on the same page.