the man in the pulpit
was preaching of
salvation
i yawned as he
...
letting go is letting out
the pain and the hurt
stored in a barrel
fermented
...
not as polished
and good as you
do my poems
are just the musings
...
</>she paints a picture
of someone in
full control
dressed like a
...
</>before the Grim Reaper
beckons
we live we laugh
we love we cry
...
at the face of death
we succumb
throws away all cautions
to face the One
...
forgive me i looked past you
pretended i didn't hear
the beckoning of love
i longed for in years
...
you speak to me in riddles
i don't pretend to know
all that you are trying
to let me see inside of you
...
the house becomes
a stranger when
you have not seen
it for long
...