if ever someone is my dearest ear who hears my truth as theirs

so, come on then, brilliant one, see, i’ve been waiting for you with eyes

being drawn back unlike a bowstring but down and in as water finds the lowest

we were all talking, things taking shape as they do, when someone said, be desireless, like that is at all a thing people

shut my eyes and squeeze my demand, the point of a spear.  what will happen.

of course it is not about you. you have to know this, like baby birds know worms come with mother’s return,

just listen the trees drink silly.. I work i work that day the not

Fieldwizards and firetops. Wobblybirds on snowflowers. Chilled milk and chowder for the little prince. Mothercake for mumbled thanks.

my spirit sings to you, clears and quickens. losing you is impossible

the center holds itself still that rockets believably may be seen exploding in all directions from somewhere vaguely

unspeakable dearth of nutrient the cause of the complaint, lack of the sweet titmilk of human connection,