Sent[i]ence

In a word or a phrase or a

para-

phrase – or a

trooper! – there is so much sense delivered

and received.

And if I can only make you

see the sense I always saw in me,

perhaps the sense I saw in me

will also be seen by

the sensible people who only

want to love and live, and thrive

when alive in the presence of loving

others.

That’s all I want:

to be loved daily;

to be loved nightly;

to be loved without recourse to

“Of courses” and

“Off kilters” …

 

… and maybe then one day

we might find each

other – together

and close –

and discover to our great surprise that

what we imagined and

what we thought and

what we never dared to act [out]

was exactly everything there was

there

in

store

for us:

a winding warehouse of riches;

a swooning breast of treasures;

a woman’s testing glorious driven.

 

In truth, what’s up and curiously ready

is nothing more

nor less than heady futures planned

and seen, and crammed

with fabulously gorgeous presents and start-

ling-

ly

gifted presences of ingenuity: the

wild intelligences of the

deservedly daring.

 

How I love this ex-

i-

sense, that confuses me so

much.

How I love this ex-

i-

scent, that

infuses me

with

your

breath-

y

singular-

i-

ty.

And how in your very B[e],

I find

exactly how

just I can love!

 

IMG_1676 (Edited)

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