times new
twelve point
double spaced
please bold.
please bold;
Please Hold—

me close.
or my hand.
i will love you
and write about you
only to create scripture on myself
(My brother told me:)

Love Poetry Is Always About The Lover
never
The Beloved.

so;

Times New
Twelve Seventy Point. A Hundred Point
Double Spaced
Bolded
Bolded
Holding

thoughts upon thoughts upon
a horse so so high
that pressing space
chokes your windpipes
in an ephemeral dash of
exhilaration.

God,
Who is that in the mirror—
It must be you,
God,
Let me caress your lashes
through the glass,
God,
Tell me how to live
and how to love them
without loving myself—

Arial.
Eleven point.
One point one five spaced.
Unbolded.
Unbolded forever in the rush
Of needing to write
God, just let me write
Why Can’t You Just Let Me Write

Please bold.
Please bold;
Please
please hold. My hand.
Above the keyboard.
And whisper
the barricade
away