the windows of love

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Love is a window that is one often opened with white satin gloves. It is beautiful and delicate, made of glass that we see right through…Its something that we fear breaking.  But, love is also a difficult window to open at times. From the hard rains in the summer, to the cold nights in between… we cannot see through the dirt and grime. This vantage point, this view that we treat so guarded… it gets covered with so many different things that we may not see through to the other side. We somehow wish to protect our satin gloves from being ruined opening this dirty window. Isn’t it funny that in times like these we forget what’s important? How do I suppose the relief of fresh air will gain entry? During moments that make me feel so alone and without air to breathe? Love is not to be handled with white gloves alone. Gloves that protect our vanity. We so often concern our hearts with the appearance of love… we become people that have no versatility … love is within the labor of always being sure our window remains open. True love is dirty and bloody… Love may be presented to us with bows and ribbons, it may be so very worthy of the essence of honor and decorum… but in the boots I have walked or the roads that I’ve traveled … love takes work gloves and mud… love is pain. Love means ruining those white gloves. Every bit of sediment on its tracks…  each time we fall face first in the mud… so long as I can see you through my window pane… I can tell you that I love you.  ©

Brain water

 


Just another fish immersed by a curse…
oceanic submersed
my reverberations reversed

Heading towards tales of  chromatically  conjoined unconscious fins
hooks hurt finding sub conscious twins
solitary secret
staccato less friends
cancel out need to keep hush on what’s never said

Like Protective brain waves
with no way to stop feeding dyslexic tongues
In silence  it depends
neurological fear only ear is my friend

Outer spaced Inner Knowledge
verbal but amiss audible code
Area x
just I without matter

Logically different fish
tend not to know how to speak it and scatter

Hurt by verbs in descriptive we keep
equipped by the neuro encryption we speak
Thoughts sync in this mind
correlated in me
I consider only likeness of pure frequency
only unscripted deep soliloquy

Absurdly adherent to symbiotic nerves
with frequent metabolic cerebral placation
replaced by synonymic sub lyric exchange
as if aquatic radio stations abstain
from ad space with symmetrical gifts
philosophical exchange

Swim to exhaust melodic phalanges
cut in deep residential
a solo Safer immersion

Hippocampus perturbed by disturbance
hurt holding
feeling dactyl in plural mental subliminal
like un paired my/its individual not so strange
not ever a stranger
endangered in words
imperfect verbs distinct in my perplexities

So honored is Wyland a friend with to swim
unchained co conspired
fathoms like 10 toes within a perfect excursion
synchronized un conjoined
mental friend it’s found joy
In A troublesome genius
intellect of Van Gogh

Grown tired from lacking a safer confusion
where my pace dives deep and slows
where I swim never displaced or disgraced
by an illusion

Introspected alleged reflection accepted
this cerebellum telling cynicism
retrospective detective
aquatic Magellan keeps tellin’ it
what finds ones decision this deep
Who knows me?  

Its quite fitting were swimming in schools UN abused
undertow of our youth
beneath toes in our boots
in the roots of our souls
of most friends without proof
who could never be told
ego denies all from truth
our transmission

Its an ocean where I can swim
and share thoughts of nutrition
the joy of an intelligent friend
my grace reminds me don’t change
don’t pretend

It’s still cool that our traces & mental twin graces
made pennies from heaven
not seem so strange

Know no words in vain
when explained by the other
friends defending its dance
its reflections protect I
from asking not question

To glisten as it did
spinning just half
half of the sun
still validates maybe
it’s that I’ve become
So alone but refracted

A chance ballerina was real
someone  wet dropped a lens
pretend its infected but copped over standing
dropped years it appears
of neglecting our tears

Our thoughts
ONE mind
a sunken treasure

Hooks from the deep
finding advancement
toward the lonely
a dark confused depth
now luminescent such light
like the sun within a prism

My lips tasting
respiration the breath
somehow it’s no one like me
unlock mental prisons
so sweet was the vision
It hurts when a smile
sunshine’s down 
to divisional incisions

In my mind finding not a damn fish swims
Just me
like fisherman’s hook punctured my mouth
how did unity turn inside out
psychotic rationalities fruition??

But without a doubt
that’s a smart fish ©