I know who I love. It’s you; fragile and in pain, lonely, needing to be saved. Your desperation is my awakening. I can’t imagine you a happy boy. So long lost, so strange and foreign. So not you.
When you look at me, do you see desperation too?
Do see yourself; do you see someone so far away from you; almost impossible
is this love then?
Is this forever, between you and I;
nameless faces, changing
always on the go
dont you just want that one person, like I do? To fall deeply and exclusively in love with
’till it gets so damn boring
unless you keep catching me in different times
in different faces
like you do
Can’t get myself to cry
…it’s been over years…
over something that’s left
the memories blur and dissipate to the ground
I’m trying to knock myself alive
cry a little more, scream a bit
love a lot
but I’m left dissipating too;
dispersing with the winds themselves
trying to attach to whatever that may come my way
the dew on grass
just anything that’s still there
barechested and green
willing to take it all
as I’m willing to fall way down
The twists and turns in your hair
give away the thousand year history untold
the smile on your face warms every warm blooded’s beating heart
eons of bond, shared blood, genes
that connect you to everything
every sea on earth
all the star dust above clouds, far, far away
the twinkle in your eyes, diamonds in black sky
the hum in your tone, pure as the holy Himalayan spring water
what wonder you are
how small you stand against the mountains that surround
how big your heart
It was this height
There was glow
There was flight
And then we die
I was so ecstatic, and apparently, I still am. Had never been called a Doll before. They just hardly say it in the part of the US that I’m in. Maybe they say it in the south?
I remember when I was called Honey as a kid. I remember thinking, ‘I am?’ and reading more into it than probably intended. I remember feeling like a spoon full of warm brown liquid syrup. I thought Americans were so nice; calling people Honey and sweet things. I wonder if being called a doughnut would give the same feels. “Hey there, doughnut” Hmm, maybe not.
In our culture, they never said Honey or Doll. The cute words they had for girls were something along the lines of, “silly girl” or “youngest daughter.”
Being called a Doll just makes you smile. Being called Honey sort of calms you down. Other names just don’t cut it.
When it happens the first time, it soars
but it’s happened before
this feeling of synchrony
as we smiled and rode on by
but this time it was a bit different
making it a first time, again
it was the calmness
that leaves you guessing
as we split paths
and think about each other for days
it’s like a white dove that’s set free;
it soars into the white clouds
when you wake up; it’s in a white dream
it’s like that when I look at the white skies
and feel the soft white falling paper pieces
rest on my summer skin;
remnants of you
will I ever find you again?
Hey, there’s nothing wrong! What’s “right” after all? Nothing bad about a bit of color and numbers that indicate some sort of a foreseeable prize ahead of you! You bet! After all, this is gambling
But it’s not bad, because it’s gambling in heaven!
Chillax, have some wine, have a cigar and roll up your sleeves! Let’s roll some dice, scratch out some numbers, and add a little point up! But remember, it’s not bad because it’s in heaven!
It’s all good and dandy here!
You can bet as much as you want, you can bet it all!
It’s all good clean fun! Lottery lottery lottery!
Yayyy yayyy yayyy.
Let the bell ring, let the whistle blow! Let’s dance arm in arm n’ get it done!
Yes we can! Success success success!
Win win win!
Get ’em sonnnn!
And then let’s spend the rest of our lives rolling the luck away! Mmmm the sweet smell of tobacco smoke and people’s cough. But hey you knuckleheads, it’s lottery time in heaaaveennn! Come on and get that winning boy grin going! We’re in heaven, it’s alllll cleaaann funnn!