I think in alternate realities,
slave to infinite possibilities,
thinking thumps,
with caustic thoughts,
eating its own flesh,
many worlds,
futility be damned,
as the song goes on and on,
reflections vary,
cracks in the glass called decision,
there’s no one to repeat,
so many universes,
but my life…
is mine.
“We have eyes, and we’re looking at stuff all the time, all day long. And I just think that whatever our eyes touch should be beautiful, tasteful, appealing, and important.” – Eric Carle
Basic needs, love.
who do you say I am?
a tenant,
four walls surround,
I have basic needs, love.
scribbled on a Post-it note,
just because it’s on paper,
doesn’t mean a damn thing,
these basic needs, love…
aren’t a question,
as contact comes close,
bounces off and floats to the cloud,
my basic needs, love…
what about yours?
touch isn’t simply input,
it can be everything,
I need you, love!
all I cannot voice,
hands measure bodies,
kiss upon kiss,
basic needs, love.
