I thought that by
   spreading out my obsession
I could make it easier to bear but
it only made me more
                   certain
that nothing could ever
live up to the way  you make my chest
bubble with electricity
                            and unease

and wrapped
  in the sour scents of someone
  else's childhood
it becomes easy to forget
where I came from

     but at least I
can be sure
I'll never forget
where I'm trying to be

you told me the
  other day
that the heel of the foot
is the least sensitive part
of the body
because your brain tends to remember
trivial things like that

well I feel
   from the bottom
      of my feet
that someday soon
                         I might be free

yes
                    yes i'm young
                    yes i don't know much
                    yes i haven't seen much
                    yes i don't know many people
                    yes i love him
                    yes i do
no i don't care about what you think, it's love, go away if you don't think it is
                    yes i'm his
                    yes he loves me too
no i don't care about you

There are beauties hidden between your ribs
that neither you nor I have thought to dream.
My words flicker and fade.
Your words flicker and fade.
You are beautiful.
It means very much to me.
I’ve seen you moving - there, high above me,
in light and have known
the hidden places of your life.
You think I am only speaking,
only trying to bend these
little words and facts
to some sound that will resonate
for the both of us - I see more clearly than that.
There are oceans in your tremblings -
at night, when you are alone,
the world waits for you,
shivers at your self neglect.
You are lovely.
You are lovely.
We are darling, you and I.
We are all the moments
leading to our ruin and death.
We are life itself - coursing into each other,
knowing what is unknowable,
unholy to speak -
knowing that we are - we are -
and beautifully so.

Nirvana was half awake
When broke into his stupor
A dove’s plaintive coo,
Still a little rattled from a dream
Where an elephant chased him,
He kept his eyes closed
To send his languor back to sleep,
But then the dove didn’t sound as plaintive
And his baggage of worries from the day gone
Tugged his eyelids against gravity,
He was so bothered that
Bestowed with one more choice
He couldn’t rejoice
In the chance to live
The simple way he could.
He got up to make himself a cup of tea
And start once more
The arduous task of finding himself!