The Sock-Monkey As Alone

Like many years before We are like flowing rivers, praying for peace on the eve, Of a new year. With sour love, a year of regrets.   Rivers with dead leaves...      Old songs with "I love you". Sometimes we will cry...   with our conflicting dreams.  But you're like a candlelight in a very dark moment. With comfort for friends             until the storm ends.

"lean in to kiss me in all the places   where the ache is the most special." ― Sanober Khan   Thoughts and prayers... Though more selfish than I want to admit. I ask "is it OK to talk about it?" "It can be more intimate than the act itself..." You always sound like a songbird. "I am trying to be less dominant           then my instincts want me to be."   "What you want matters too."   Your sick again,    There is no comfort         in this longing.   Lust is good enough, but, more than I deserve.   You were married when we first met.   "let me know what you want?" You chirp again.  

  "Let's get really fucked up and full of sentimental despair and then finally decide life, despite every heartbreak and anguished cry, is worth each pulse and breath." ― Jim Dodge   You have taught me so much... But the truth is for others to find... Not because I am selfish but because as Mary Poppins would say "First of all, I would like to make one thing clear: I never explain anything." However, in my case, the truth is as sour as a green apple, and it wakes me up. I may be the shadow of the light that I seek, but I only paraphrase you out of respect. You have taught me so much... still, I have so much to learn. An economy of style with the public domain honest-to-goodness moral truth. With a desire for my life to be as much of a poem as what I decide to put down on paper.   I have a hard time writing this because most of what you have said in casual circumstances Is the good news that those born again Bible smacking, &qu

Light is information without a clear message. God's mercy is learning love. What is manifest is to accuse fear. Yet there is peace resting as a dove.   On the last day, compressing us all down. In his hands we are made complete. In His praise is the glory we're bound. For the carpenters is the crown of kings.   He made the universe (a purpose) to mend a shirt. Without needle or thread. To bring forward things for life to learn. Simple stitches were the words he said.     Without him we will always long in need. But through his word he makes us complete.