In Response to Your Catalog of Lost Hope

I can look right at you and know we are different.

The list you experience runs further and further down my back
ruffling my feathers and stroking my sensitive spots.

And yet.

I only know one method of comfort. One way to accept you and encourage
your renewal of hope.

I can’t.

I want to be your savior, your shrill shake back into the world, your unique eyepiece
with which to screw on tightly.

I want to hold you that mirror,
offer you new members of family
insightful friends,

A worthy partner.

You worship that art, and I want to bring you flowers,
take you back to Alaska, then Hawaii,
explore Africa inside your eyes and eat figs in Costa Rica.

I want to pull open each notebook, crumple leaves, rub my naked backside on the bark of a tree.

Spend the afternoon giving my services for free, and learning with you
how to be selflessly.

Know that the work I am working is more
than just tasting purpose, but providing it,

More.

Feeling the spirit of you and me inside a deity, wording up a new philosophy

and spending a month devoted to no more than reading my books
and yours.

Let’s see a movie, dive in with our lips and suck each of us
a cock and a tit

parting our plumped and libidinous lips and burying our flesh into each kiss-licked spit.

Let’s share that tea, and sit in chairs that are meant for sit
for hours let us watch wallpaper unstick

Let us fill three hundred evenings with coke in our nostrils
and drive out the adrenaline in the seedier slums.

I’ll sing in your ear, and right out your wrongs with the lyrics of hopeful
and cute cheery songs.

Perhaps you can do more on your knees than give head
perhaps you can pray to some god instead

or fear the fires of damnation
if you take your own life
perhaps instead you take pills
and meet the cold ground tonight.

I don’t want to encourage anything other than life.

I can’t offer you solace in betwixt my tart purpose
but I will hold your hand and walk you through
until you can keep moving toward the sun on your own.

Even then I will tell you, more larger than life
I’m not going anywhere, I can still see you
from here.

But I can’t.
You won’t.
Your heart isn’t in it.

I won’t push you down any further than finished

But I can’t.
I won’t
let you sleep painless sleep.

I am deep in this winter with you
My lost sinner.

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Talk at me while I eat

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