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Our blood is equipped with spit and spirit
And it flows right into our splintered hearts
We are already shifting stratospheres
For there was a lonely place here
Even before the earth appeared, quite naked
We infiltrated the epicenter of the universe
Just to hear her whisper in the dark
If I were A pessimist,
I’d look at life, and hiss and spit.
If I were A optimist,
I’d look at life, and think what bliss.
Yet I am A realist,
So life to me is hit and miss.
How sweet is the Shepherd’s sweet lot,
From the morn to the evening he strays:
He shall follow his sheep all the day
And his tongue shall be filled with praise.

For he hears the lambs innocent call,
And he hears the ewes tender reply,
He is watchful while they are in peace,
For they know when their Shepherd is nigh.
What if,
flies were made from flypaper,
and birds from
bird-nest soup?
What if the monkey had
a wrench he could call his own,
and cats that were lion
told the truth?

Then the energy of it all
could be a bright blue ball
as the world
becomes a crazy zoo;
Where parrots can
be polyglots,
and rhinos,
rhinoplasty.
and I can be a horseman and
toucan think of more.

Perhaps the boa could be
soft as ostrich feathers,
and the bear would hug
us close and dry our tears.

The moral of story
isn't serious that's true,
if goats can be kids,
then I can be ewe.
like water
I poured myself into her until she was overflowing at the brim

like reinforced steel
I bridged my heart to hers and welded myself to her soul

like the sun
I filled myself with light to cover her darkness

like a blanket
I shielded her from the harsh world underneath the covers

like magnets
I orbited her aura until we inevitably collided

like a seed
I felt myself growing up from her

Then, like an idiot
I could tell she felt nothing.
I did not hear your cries as I wrenched a thousand words from my breast, nor your protestations as my eyes recalled yet another deep magenta sky.
I did not see your tears of frustration as I marvelled at the world, singing at snow angels and harbouring the winter chill.
I did not feel your heartbeat leave mine as the russets fell
nor did I  hear you call my name over my frustrated sighs, and tempered ego.
I did not notice your silence
Until I saw you drowning as I described the water.
I can get a little distracted.
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