June 10, 2016 – 7:52 pm – San Francisco
For you I would have slept
None, as you are maybe sleeping now.
Hath thee more important things to quarrel of,
That what your parents’ would?
Of paining I would laugh,
If through some chants we could grab
Each’s hand as I would
To my mother,
If she ever disclosed that you never could.
The lesser I know, seems the more worried I grow.
Could you tell me memories
Of a wanting walk across some unnoticed shore?
How unnoticed you were.
Yet reluctance brings me closer
As adorations that cure my heart.
I daren’t believe truth
That it was Father that put your mother through.
No lover of mine agreed,
That my worries were shackled to broken trees,
Because to understand your faith,
It was not with the eyes they would have to see;
One must remove life’s adorations, and corpses may then unbury.
No single soul knows that I know
Except a soulful sister of yours,
If you ever should have lived
She would be gifted to, as you her gift.
Not now, I speak in fasting state
Of honesty – no, not of hate.
Hath thee a soul yet in the sky?
If so, please dawn upon me a better smile.
Hath thee a unhated boorish friend?
Or is it you who they call saint?
In my mother’s belly stayed,
As stoic monster in golden cave,
You, who has no wrong, no right –
T’was it my fault for not knowing this?
It is scary, yes
But to my love, I’ll confess.
Be human, or be dust,
You were once my kindred blood.