"the two shall become one"
yet we're still distinctly two

are we
us
or are we
me           &           you

a single narrative
can't describe
yet we try

but nope
definitely still two

Top notch legal scholar Erin Go Braw
     (less concerned about being fair versus
     abominable, irrevocable, and execrable
     unforgivable oversight most holy "M" & *****)

cabinet of high priests,
     sans spelling chieftains ready to claw
your person to bits,
     and they presage remote clemency

     which decision told, when Jeff Sessions
     decides final punishment to draw
now, (see excerpted lines
     visited with glaring flaw

"Benediction For Lord Apple Macintosh"
     where ...bot sized wetbacks, setbacks,
     and drawbacks, required a secret char),...
     intimates a "hee haw"

and rock'm n sock'm pull no punches
     square at yar triangular jaw
YES, on account misspelling,
     whence Grammarian Jude Law

at the least aims (to topple a prospective
     title of eminence grise), banning access
     to such undeserved
     catbird seat, sans Rhetorical perch

laughing while ja plaintively call for maw
**** Oxford English Dictionary - but naw
can do, and hence paw
mister trumpeting

     "FAKE" wordsmith raw
flesh will turn into....
unreadable print until closing text
that elaborates how holiness felt vexed.

To ye (a freshly minted scalawag),
     these 20/20 eyes bulged agog
while steaming with invective
     at what attempted

     to pass as sacred poetic blog
when thee (Matthew Scott Harris),
     now pronounced, an illiterate,
     immoderate, and inveterate å!@#$%∑

with a severe cerebral clog
(meaning prefrontal lobotomy
     not out of the question),
      you m~r mangy whelp of a she dog
     (my humble apologies to canines),

less deserving than being
     whipped near death's doorstep flog
after henchmen (strongly
     resembling Alaskan BullWorms
     guarding this royal hutch,
     herein Cupertino, California.

Quiet is the honest whisper
When all the distractions are at an end

When your head hits the pillow
Your heart hits your ribs
And your mind's eye opens
To these inevitable ends

How we seek to wear ourselves so thin
How we think the future is better than
This present moment known to you

But the quiet whisper knows no lie
The honest whisper knows the truth

When his shoulders turn and all hope is falling, like an iron on steel, like the rain in May. There will be no tomorrow for the us which was, for the walk which couldn't be kept away.

Stay right beside me.
Stay till I fall asleep.
Once my eyes have given up,
on seeing the world for what it is
and failing each time.
When my hold on your fingers
loosens breath by breath.
When I finally fall asleep.
Let me dream of a love for us
that hurts little less.
Live the life that I dream of.
Even if I am not there.