My HP decided that he would write the second half of this poem, and I decided to let him. That’s right, a halfsies poem. I’m looking forward to it, and I’m also a little afraid of a conjoined poem. But,
here we go:
Was there any guess at this every? Any chance we wouldn’t turn off the road onto the dirt, was there any question, ever? No, No, Nope. Here we are in the moonlight, looking for the stars falling, Here we are in the mudlight, here we are with mud on the tires, looking for stars in the distance, was there any guess, ever, in this big question?
Here, I’ll go and answer it: You. You there in front of the poster. Cervantes, a good sign and poster, same with the aviation, same with the maps, these are the big clues, the clues that lead you right here, right here, right here and let’s pretend about
the break, let’s pretend that’s an every now, right here in good big happening, I’ll pretend at these questions if you can, I’ll pretend all the time and get happy, or happy enough for a Russian.
There are bones you see through, and there’s a vessel that carries you now, up through the veins, these are the vessels that carry us, carry the hearts and blood, these are the big faces that come on in and say hey, say, say, say
this is what the big love says:
I know and I know and I know and I know and I know and I know too.
I will be a speaker for the heartsong, the life that you and I forever sing. The love that you and I forever bring. Within the weirwood of our twining the heart tree grows.
The heart tree grows, and the gods of old inhabit our branches, in front of which no man can lie. They fork and they grow, they scar and they heal, they score a gritty reality. Truth. Unabashed.
I sit with you, I talk with you; I laugh, I wist, crave; I wince, I delve, I stave; I whine, I enable, I evade with language.
Truth. Our heartsong has ventricles, two left, two right. Our pain comes in, our iron comes out. Our marriage is tempered in the heat of regret. We are layered. And we are strong. And I love you.
Hugs to everyone, now. Happy Tuesday, poemers