Letters to Eve

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Act like a brother.

Act like a brother it’s the way to be.

A brother to help her in a time of need.

If more comes it will be good, for now though act like a brother and care.

To care and help and try to let her become whole

She needs something.

And it’s not a lover.

More is what want to give her.

Help is what I will for now.

Secondly I would like to see you as a woman who can love.

Not run away down toward the sunset.

I am alone too and would like to hold you close to me never to go away again.

Are you likely to come to me in tomorrows’ early light to sit gaze and hold our souls next to our hearts?

Look.

See.

Let me me walk into your eyes.

As you walk into mine.

And let us both stay.

Shall I go out into the white night?

Cold sets itself into my veins.

Flows to my feet.

Is warmed as it passes through me and out again.

Is it warmer in me?

Or is it warmer standing out there next to myself?

I shiver

And button my coat as not to catch cold.

Touch my hand.

My self.

Make me warm again.

Make my soul alive.

Keep me from my frozen thoughts.

Here in this winter of white, cold and solemn death.

Let me be forever at peace.

The thermostat is low.

The water moisture is chilling the air around me.

As I ask for a cup of tea I shiver.

My arm jumps as I take it.

Bumps the stillness that I find myself in.

Come comfort me totally.

As myself alone I can be here.

Still wondering should I have asked, where is it within me that I might find something that is warm on this cold black breathless night?

Whiteness appear to this gray earth and bring your pure realization down to the level where I presently sit.

Confined in my gray sweater.

Like the urge to scratch.

I seek out a warm hand.

The itching persists.

Like the urge to scratch.

I move to relieve it.

I see myself from across the room.

I speak to and confide in this other man.

Need.

In the long run is in the form of the soul of a woman.

Seen across the room.

Looked at.

Recognized as love.

Commonplace realizations.

Mine.

Yours.

Can we be one in the totality of that word?

Can we fuse ourselves into that whole?

Come sit y my table and let me help you to be.

Help me.

Come to know who you are.

Are you to be the one?

Come tell me I would like to know.

Today the windows are shimmering with crispness.

It is cold.

Bright.

Beautiful.

Gaze at the sun and burn your mind to a crisp light brown.

Journey to it’s center and back to your self.

Healed you now are.

You are more than be before and less than you be tomorrow.

Pound cake weighs me down.

My head touches the floor.

Mine is the one on the left side of the window.

Left on the outside to weather.

Age.

Crack.

Die.

Break my heart tomorrow.

Today I’m busy.

Bury me deep in the green earth.

Leave me to my self.

Let me live in death as I never have in life.

Brief moments.

Glimpses of shadows.

Of love in all it’s goodness are coming me.

No.

It is only my coat.

Shall it never again be anything more than that?

Could it ever be anything more.

Co

Close your mouth please.

Speak of hope if you are to speak of anything at all.

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