When we are done here
I will save the parts of us
That make beautiful fiction
I do not always want to acknowledge
The unhealed parts of my self
That seep into my clear waters
I do not expect you
To kneel at my muddy banks
And drink
Know that I would see you quenched
Not thirst
How long will the threshing floor turn
While I wait hungry
For the grain to separate
From my sins

I know sadness doesn't make you feel full
But it's one hell of a completeness

is anyone more predictable than a poet

The light bends a little
When we come to this place in the middle
Your safe place is a little to the left
I run to you just a little bit West
I seek you out in the in between
Breathing in sweet and musky, ethene
My soft hands against yours
Water splashing against iron rod
While I wait for my sins
To climb their way up to God

lean in to me
seal my mouth
with your wax kiss
I will not part
promising nothing
to these days
though they expect much
of my unrefined soul

My greatest struggle of humanity is this;
That we must wage our minds against what they are unwilling to relinquish. Where we go, the mind leads and all the unredeemed will follow.

in the matters of what I have done
no other holds higher guilt

in the matters of love and trust
forgive me until I am barren of innocence