(you sweet..  succulent,
                       tender  little ****..)



"I don't know what to keep
and what to throw away, Paul"


"All of it, young love..   none of it..
I mean wait..     what?"


"All's I'm saying  is..
I can finally see myself  in the
reflection, now that the mirror's
wiped clean. Problem is..  I can only
hold on to it for so long before it all
completely goes away again..

    the image of me, I mean"


"Ah. young Lovely..
the insurgent is embedded   far too
deeply  into the City  called,
'All of who it is that you are'
To engage it or try to take it out right now
is  going to create far too much
collateral damage"


"Then what am I to do..
how am I going to be able to hold on?"


"I have an idea, young love..
       Shhh..  listen--"

Compartmentalized;

..An elevated view  of you
shows booth, after booth,
after booth, after booth,
after booth, after booth,
after booth, after booth,
after booth, after booth,
after booth, after booth,
after booth, after booth,

.. after booth, after booth
   Each one  partitioned  with

an impenetrable  curtain
hanging off of  a bone-frame
stainless steel  pipe structure,
Built high enough  for the
different parts  of you
to sense, but not   feel..

what part of you
is in the other booth.

   Problem is,

You want and expect
me to orbit around it all
as if each isolated part
   is,  in itself..
actually the whole you..
when I know it is  only
a  tremendously-lonely
    part of the whole.
And you take love  to be
some form of blindness
  on my part

--to the elephant in the room,
And I tell you I love you..
And I tell you,  

               "No.. I won't do it"

--And your shame  kicks in
causing you to  feel
     I'm too harsh..

        or being judgemental.

Yet all along, you are knowing--
That just a few moments  with me..
and the walls come tumbling down.
   .          .          .          .         .          .          

When the partitions  drop
(that is your terror)
(that is your horror)
You will not annihilate
into a million fragments  
   of nothingness

The you(s)..  of you
will meet one another
for the very first time
since you were first  dismembered
(fragmented, so very long ago.)
You will not  disintegrate, love..

You will  Re- integrate.

Love does that.  It does.
But you already know that.
Yet still you hide (.. from me.)


You are addicted  to the 'comfort'
the partitions's isolation brings.
Your relationship is not with
the sum of the parts  as a whole..
but with the internal  "construct"  within you--
  the chasm..  the gap..  

--the empty space between those parts;
as it uninstalls one part of the intricate you
and re-installs the next

And you have no idea   how to
   orchestrate
the many different parts  of you
   like a conductor would do
   with his orchestra..   therefore,

You can only be in relationship
with one part of yourself at a time--
..Each partitioned  'self'
has an e-mail address
Each one  has
a separate account  of its own..
Each one,  within itself..   convinced
that it carries within itself
its own, separate genetic imprint

Each one,  you can  milk  
within its incompleteness
     as if it in itself,   is complete--
    .. Flaunting it, flaunting it;  
    as though it is the complete you
  while all other necessary  parts of the whole
  remain dangerously dormant..
   --being Unholy-ghosted  by

    whatever currently-visible part of you
    now  has control of the ship.


--And throughout the years
I am expected to weather the storm
and gather  pieces,  from pieces..
and then magically (oh.. I can..)
piece them all together as I speak to you
without you having to even  feel
the tension (absurdity)  of the
mis-placed  accountability
   (and responsibility)
    to enter into love
    as a Whole (the sum of many parts)

And so here I am..  orbiting    
    orbiting  orbiting--
around your ever-changing  mood swings;
        the   "Paul-is-good,"  one day
        and  "Paul-is-bad,"  the next,
       (those ever-changing perspectives,
       gaslighting.. gaslighting.. gaslighting)
   --in order that you might  remain   'the same'
   based on whatever current-visible  part of you
   is currently at the helm..

       The current pilot of the ship
       wholly unaware of the leadership styles,
       opinions and views of that  of the last.  
Harsh sounding.. I know..
(but you know..)

And so, here's the rub--

You are feeling your days
to be numbered..
You have been around me
too long, love.
(that is your fault)   You knew.

https://hellopoetry.com/poem/4159831/tourniquet-smiles-yeah-that/

I wrote that  such a long time ago


We are getting closer to Home, love.
I wrote this strange little ditty
before I wrote that other one..

https://hellopoetry.com/poem/3383529/fragments/

What you have feared  most
has now given way
to the sound of inevitability

   (You should have ran
             ..but you didn't.)


..The sound of inevitability
 isn't really a sound at all..

..It is the  sound of you  still
  standing there.❤

To whom (you)  it may (does) concern:


There is nothing Unfaithful  whatsoever
about saving your own life.




--it is me who is immersed in unfaithfulness.

Prairieland grass--
bent over towards the ground
by the dry, Fall wind
as the subtle warmth
  of a teasing Sun..

Submits itself to the
now impending Winter..
where grass and seed
sleep in dormancy
as the subzero wind
prepares the ground  
to receive  snow.. upon snow

upon snow.

..And there is this temptation
to draw feelings   and conclusions
from any one certain  part
   of the whole.

And those feelings and conclusions..
                             --they feel so very real

Because they were based upon  the real;
but only a part of the beautiful whole..
And though,  even  one part of the whole
is as real as every single  other part..

It is  in itself, incomplete.
Just as the bent-over prairiegrass
under the snow  is incomplete..


It is Spring now..  sweet, struggling Angel

    All things become new.

Vancouver Bay, viewed out the front
window, as out the back door,
the snowcapped Olympics loom..
A beautiful ocean breeze  here
in Port Angeles.. and amazing
warmth,  in the sun.

Hours long visits with my Mother
yesterday and today.. and then us
finding a long lost cousin  on
ancestry .  com  when we get  back
to the house. Pictures of dad there
when he was young before the war.
Stories and memories  from Mom
about before  and after, everything
went bad.

And pictures, pictures, pictures
of before it went bad..

      but none after.

I feel the distance  of the memories
but not the pain. I hold Momma close
within the knowledge  that nothing
whatsoever  has a hold on me. Elaine
is serving meals and catering to
our mother in her Rainman-like
attempt, to keep all her pain at bay;

    She is flesh of my flesh..
    blood.. of my blood.
    There with me  from the beginning--

    amidst the horrors  far beyond
    a child's innocent vocabulary
    to describe.

Back home she opens up
ancestry . com again  as Harlan talks
about his adoption  and attempt at
reconnection with his blood family,
once he finds out who they are.  Few
even want to acknowledge his  existence.

   The distant cousin of ours
   wants to tell Elaine about Dad
  right after the war.

After she responds, I **** on her
leg and then wave another, directly her way.
She's trying  to keep from laughing
as she fakes throwing up.

   I **** on her one more time
   just to show her who's boss..

She's like a machine  in her need
to take care of Mom. We take pictures
when again,  back over there..
I keep messing the timer up
on my phone's camera,
I think Mom wants to be left alone.

I don't think Mom ever
wants to be left alone.

She straight-arms me when I try
to help her up from the table.
I step back,  
but don't take it personally.
Back on the couch..  she's
she's cranky now, because the
current New York times  arrived
with a tear. She opens up the
business section and I tell her
Warren Buffett is my new boss.
She's very pleased with his ownership
of our company, and then immerses
herself into her newspaper.

   Elaine says its time to go.

She will ask Elaine again tomorrow
morning if I was really here..  or
was it her imagination. I will show
her again tomorrow that I am very
real. There have been horrors  beyond
description. There are years and years
and years,  of my letting go.

Back at the house, I sit on the front
steps and stare out at the bay.
Victoria Island is beautiful.
The Olympic Mountains are breathtaking.
Time with Harlan and Elaine  as the
sun goes down. I wave a **** one more time,  
her way.. for good measure.  
She brings me Rocky Road ice cream  
because she remembers its my favorite.
I muster up one more **** her way
before heading off to bed.

She comments about my strength.

Back down in the guestroom,
you are on top of me--
your beautiful thighs  straddling my hips..
You've been working out, beautiful girl
that firm ***..  feeling so incredible
in my hands..
You ease your beautiful, warm wet
slowly..  down on to me
in your desire to  bring about
   for each of us..
   the most beautiful,  deep release.

You kiss me deeply,  as our bodies  writhe
in deep ******--
Beautiful ****,  to my chest
as I pulse the warmth  of my *****
deeply,   in to you..

"This is the death  of all death, beautiful girl"..
I whisper into your weary spirit
as your beautiful *****..  gushes deeply
all over my warm, pulsing  flesh.


..And suddenly  we are *******
in the warm,  pouring rain--

https://www.pornhub.com/view_lala-la-la-lala-la



       You are overcoming, beautiful girl.
                         ~xoxoxo~

      'You said,  
     "Someday I'm gonna break your heart",
      the first time that we met--

     Were you warning me..

     ..or just seeing how close I'd get?'

If you didn't want to exist  in the heart
of a man like me, then you shouldn't have
allowed your scrapper little spirit  
    to write the way you do.

And I was so naughty--  so very intentioned  
in all of my obscenely-truthful lies..
I told you it was all your  fault
        that you got in so quickly

         --and   it  was.

I got you back, though
I knew it the moment you let on
that you had fallen  deeply  in love..   not with me..
but with the love that had so deeply  fallen
for every-thing about you

And so,  it increased..  but at such a strange distance.
But even then,  the years only perfected  

   and strengthened..

   until lately..  
                      until lately..

     'We lay down in a lover's sigh
     As a million years of time rolled by
     How can I be hoping that it's not over yet?'

     I wasn't done, young Andi..
     no..   no..   far from it

You see.. there's this shame-thing
I wanted to flood  with light.
I'm getting so close  to finding the words
     that have never been heard  
     in this world before

    (And now.. and now.. and now..)

     'I can't hold on to the night
     Things change, ain't nothin' ever stays the same
     You're gone as far as I can see

     If you feel like letting go
     Honey, I don't wanna be the last to know

    ( I wanna hold on tight to the sweet memory
        of you loving  me)'

What is it about that elusive word?
I will throw my arms around it,

          --if it could only  become
                   tangible  to me.

             Children sit in families..
(and there was bonding from the beginning)



I don't know what that means


I don't know  how that feels..



I   don't..


                                                    ...­            



                              I ...   don't...


                                                     kn--....



    ...





                  I ..       .



                                    ....

I am tired,  and just now laying down
in my bed.. I can't believe I can finally
get some rest.

What a day, sweetie.
You were on my mind  all day
and I could  feel the tender-hearted
sadness and vulnerability welling up in you..
So very interesting that it has gone
this route.. and the gates open back up,
but with a well-oiled  swing this time...
And you are wondering if there is
really enough love available to  truly
save a person..  And you gasp out loud
as I pull you  close to me,
as if you did not know that was something
that could even be done in this world--
my hand to the small of your back
as my mouth presses  softly
to the side of your face..

and I whisper words of warm,  loving support,
           deeply into you--
  tears..  streaming down your beautiful face
    as your whole body trembles.

"This kind of world is so unfamiliar to me,
I don't even know how to be right now..  
And just as much..
   I have no idea how or what to feel.  
I've been crying a lot--  over all the
things I've had to face..
along with all of these changes.
And when I told you that I missed
you.. I really meant it.  

    ..But then you hurt me bad.. real bad"

You are angry and still hurt.
but you can't stop pulling at my shirt--
clenched in your hand, at my chest..
so much  that you are about to tear
my buttons.

"Why do you do that to me
when I need you so much..  
why.. when I open up and trust  

    and need you the most,  
            why do you do that?"

You are shaking me with both fists  now
but there is still the look  of deep
love in your eyes..  and as they look
directly into mine, your tears of anger
and hurt  give way to the overwhelming
desire to press  up against me..
and have me kiss you   deeply.

    Looming overhead
    is my cloud-incased,  need
    to  not  cast a vote  on the
    current status-quo..

     ..To  not  call today--
      'everything we've worked toward
      until today,  is enough'


"You will  end up
in my bed, beautiful girl..
and we'll be together--
pushing forward,  pushing  in to..
   everything that you have taken in,
   so far..
..But I am scared shitless  of the
ever-limiting nature  the
threat of mundaneness  brings about
by complacency within the inner-self..

..And so with you, my beautiful..
I light a skyrocket under  that
gorgeous, sweet *** of yours..
    And throughout  the cosmos
    And into the Realms  you shoot..

.. But am I not  always  the one
who catches you before you fully fall--
scary as the unfair launch into the sky is..
I have always, always  caught you."


"You have, Paul.
I'm going to fall in love  with you
harder than I ever have in my life
because of who you have
been to me throughout the years..

..But one day.. I'm gonna stand up
and punch you--  right in the nose..
   ..then leave..

   because of  h o w  you  have 
   been to me throughout the years."


"Damm right you will, Babe.
Now get the ****  over here       
      and give me a kiss..
      ..And you
      have to pretend like you like it, too.."

"I'm still mad at you Paul..
and you're such a pervert.  But I
know how much you love these,  
so I want to show them to you"

--As you gently  pull on your  cute,
flowery black dress's belt.. it slowly
unwraps  and falls down, onto the grass..

My eyes are staring at your beautiful body..
     that absolutely perfect skin..
those lusciously-gorgeous  *******..
the curve of those hips,  the shape of
your thighs..

    "Do you like what you see?"


"Ah, Babe..
    more than I have words for."




(but you see.. there's still this thing I do..)

My sweet, Forever-Beautiful..

I am flying out to Port Angeles Washington  in a few weeks
to see my Mother  who is 92 years old and dying.
My middle sister and her husband live there.
My Mother is in Sequim, which is the next town over.
She has her own apartment but will be moving in with Elaine
by the time I get there.
She has been fighting cancer for almost 20 years now.

This is what I want to say to you, sweet-one..

My trip out there is where the rubber meets the road  within
all that I have been saying to you throughout the years..
and without what I know will happen there once I am with her..

       my love is not Awake and Alive,  
       but only the empty ramblings of a deranged man.

My father died suddenly in 2013 at 83,  but spoke to me  on the
phone for two hours just the day before he passed. It was one of
the most magical two hours I have ever experienced.
Most of his dying wishes were for myself and my sisters,
and all of his grandchildren.. that we all would be able
to carry on in peace..  free from the pain and chaos,  
which was all we knew when young. Momma needs to know
that not only is she forgiven,  
but that while she  remains here with us on Earth..
    she is the light and Joy of my life.
She is my Momma, sweet friend.  It hasn't been easy.
She (and my Father) no longer have a hold on me  
they once did years ago.  I am going to go out there
and kiss her  and my sisters  and thank them all for my life.
I am as a hero in the eyes of my three sisters, who have
not all been as fortunate in the overcoming process,
but have all done well in the process  of getting well
  and sometimes, in just trying to survive.

I love you, sweet Beautiful.  I always have.
You can do this, girl..  you can  feel and become  the freedom
of all of who you were placed here on Earth to be..
and you will become able to do it   fully and completely--
in full relationship with all of who it is that you are
within your own, beautiful self.
I came across you for a reason.  You were the most defiant
and mischievous of all, yet have turned out to be one
of the very best souls I have ever known.
I will never let you go from the place you hold in my heart
   and I will never stop believing in you.

       I'm gonna be with my Momma soon.  

I have never-ending  kisses for her.  She told me recently  
that I am the most special man she have ever known.
Those are much different words than the ones  I had hammered
into me when I was a little boy.. so many years ago.
You and I have much in common that way.

She's from Denmark. She would have truly loved you
within the magical aura that surrounds you wherever you go..
had you two ever met. She got into the 12-step process  after
her and my Dad split up when I was 13. By the time I was 25,
she was a completely rehabilitated person.  But even now
she carries that deep horrendous, soul-killing darkness in her.

                I have kisses for her.

I will gladly take that darkness on  so that she can feel..
even if for just one moment, what a world of peace
and freedom  truly  feels like.

   Darkness has no hold on me, beautiful girl.
   I am no longer that little boy.. who by her choice,  (to not)

         .. was made to wear it--  

         over.. and over.. and over again
         until I had become  completely broken..

                                                    -- Completely.

    When I was young, I unknowingly  carried  for her
                     what she, herself..  would not.
    Now that I am a grown man--  through volition alone,
               I will  gladly  for her, take that **** on
           so that she won't ever.. ever again,  have to.

                                     .. Gladly.


    I love you more than you may ever know. 🌾🌾xox