Love: An Exercise of Freedom

(What is the significance of the sun to day... or the moon to night - without you?..

A poet has a pen. A poet begins to write.

After all, a thought lost is nothing gained - as poets think - I think about you, the motif to conservation the plains of my Missouri. Poets create their own poetspeak the way artists have vision; experience is the best teacher the way there is no me without you - love will always make anyone a poet. The structuring of these lines lay the foundation for us, 2 - builds a movement - the way poets are free to create, I love you where practice makes perfect and regular exercise conditions a desirable physique and the good health of expression shall but plush.

How could I not exercise the condition of me to you?)

Some of us part. Separate suffering in an ever-expanding division. Some of us remain joined or return. The fleeing of day to night does not shadow or hide your voice.

It has become both luxury and necessity, both need and want with every breath I must breathe except in hatred. There is no written or unwritten rule we shall only love at night to shadow the sight of poetry-in-motion would be unjust convicting that'd imprison any time of day provoking thought to page.

...if you forget me
Like a thought lost is nothing gained, why would I pay the poet to write love poetry?
...All about this body of exposure
...I'll never forget
We must set aside old pain
The way dawn tucks yesterday into history
I'd not shield your magnificent lady-sculpture
From unveiling remarkable prize
...You may never be forgotten

All or part? Maybe, both; yeah & nay considering all or part you allow me to know. Considering all the things we've been through, old pain mustn't become new to be renewed the way tornadoes may reformulate to reap devastation. Everything else means nothing to rebuilding after natural disasters. Loving you is the calm after the storm to bid us peace. Some things are possessive like spring over blossoms, insecure as day losing light. I possess this insecurity about losing all we have 2gether.

...If you forget me, the way I don't want to be forgot, a source, a source of purpose would no longer stand to endure nature's storms, shredding the pages. We need each other to write.

...Maybe you won't forget, the way true love is never forgotten? - Wm. Irving

9/12/12 9:10am