Dear Reader:

God had a different plan. Its only His forever that is eternal.

November 3 2016

If i was a compass, i am lost, but you are my north.
Im dazzled by your petrifying eyes
Their forgiving glance planted into my immature root-of-a-soul
That i will cultivate forever. I want to weather hurricanes with you, for you, by you, in you. Tonight it is so hard not to get lost through your cocoa calm eyehold. Or tangle the sleek and pointed buzz of the bristledsoft moss of your hair. I love you and am not allowed to say it, but i do want to be your friend forever.

Civil Disobedience.
November 5, 2016.

Bergamot and alcohol
Quiver of crinkled leaves
Dusty heat essenced into fallbreeze stove
The world should listen to stardust
A symphony stealing my daytime, midnight, natal morning. You are the comet that bears my wishes through the splendor of dusk and the dazzle of dawn. A constant wish i can always –and yet never– make. Finally, my dreams lightened and there you were, in these clouds where i not only feel freedom, but touch it. Through the cologne, the dog gum punctures, vodka slurs, and midnight melodies of God help the girl whistling through the pace of your nose, because somehow past my roofwalks and clogged filters, you love me.
And that makes me alive.



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