This letter is sad.
Can I show my grief to you?
There have been a long line of abortions
to my love
and though in protest, my body cannot stand
my limbs pour pure steel into grieving
loss and lead like great friends
filling a koan with tears
I love you
though I have said that
and still the water runs dry
the thirst...
is ever steady
the thirst...
is full throttle
the thirst...
is unbreakable
my love
I am lost
do you have my compass?
will you stay in the forest and hear my tears?
I have grown up.
like a weed learning to honor her own beauty
in a world of
flower and fruit
I have had to find my reason
for being less
than you were willing to spend/hold
My love
I am so lonely
the sparks from this stolen aorta are like granules of death
sputtered into a pewter rash.
looked over again,
I have come to the charmless bridge
where I must decide
birthing or burning?
each intention is so pure
all my thoughts taint it
I look in the river
and that murk has become
my mother
I want you to adore me
think of that thin bare line
which I adorn
You are always
the idol of my quenching
and yet I thirst
bucket of water in my hands
and yet I thirst
Lord, I want to be purified
I want your inner beauty
to wash out all my pock marks
I want all your vintage holiness
to spark my reinvention
if I am bathing
my feet
in your awe,
what crying can be cured
by
your
letting me?
I am all alone in this world
the Fates
smother and smear me
I roll along their walls
punishing
the pain
inside of me
can you endure
my hurt?
some letters, my love
are pure
selfishness,
rivalry
of one's own pretenses
thoughts become bargains
in the veil of the ideal
can you put up with this?
I Love You
Your Beloved
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