Read this to yourself. Read it silently.
Don't move your lips. Don't make a sound.
Listen to yourself. Listen without hearing anything.
What a wonderfully weird thing, huh?

NOW MAKE THIS PART LOUD!
SCREAM IT IN YOUR MIND!
DROWN EVERYTHING OUT.
Now, hear a whisper. A tiny whisper.

Now, read this next line with your best crochety- old-man voice:
"Hello there, sonny. Does your town have a post office?"
Awesome! Who was that? Whose voice was that?
It sure wasn't yours!

How do you do that?
How?!
Must be magic.

"No one understands me."

         it slipped out in
         a timid whisper
          
                             as she combed her beard.

No matter our race or color or creed
or way of life or species or breed.
No matter our height or girth or scent,
we all hate Donald because Donald is a ******* ****.

Forever and an instant met up one day,
had a short but lovely talk,
then each went on its way.

On a Wednesday morning, clear and calm,
                     I went to Astor Place
and had a gypsy read my palm
                     or maybe just my face.

She said my heart was heavy
                     and my head was stuffed with lies.
But things like that weren't on my hand,
                     they hid behind my eyes.

The room is dull and dank and cold but at
least I have a hand to hold.

To you, the ground beneath my feet
Every step I take,
you support me.

You stand with me,
in my times of trouble

I am warmed by your embrace,
as I become entranced in your outfit of lace.

Nothing could be more finely crafted,
than my connection with you.

The ages may wear on you,
yet you remain the only one
my sole longs for.

For you truly are...
My favorite pair of shoes.

I met a man yesterday.
He said something about eagles in Thailand.
and how your first love has a 90% chance of betraying you.

"tell me something I don't know"
"you're weird."
"tell me something I don't know"
"what happened to your eyes?"
"what happened to my eyes?"
"they don't have depth"

"tell me something I don't know"

he told me again that there's a 90% chance your first love will betray you.
I looked at this bright-eyed man and thought he doesn't know anything about me.
And I was struck by the colors of his eyes.
It's amber.
four or maybe six different shades of amber.

It's the color of autumn in New England,
It's the color of fire that's not too hot nor too bland.
It's the color of sunset in the Grand Canyon.
It's the color of the words, "Welcome home."

"There's a 90% chance that your first love will betray you."

My eyes are burning.

"But there's a 100% chance that it will get better."

My hands are shaking.

"All you have to do is let him go."

seven years.
*******.

"Put an end to everything that hurts."