I Am In My Own Mind. I

The Ground Has On Its Clothes. The Trees Poke Out Of Sheets And Each Branch Wears The Sock Of God.

Yes I Try To Kill Myself In Small Amounts, An Innocuous Occupation. Actually I'm Hung Up On It.

Love? Be It Man. Be It Woman. It Must Be A Wave You Want To Glide In On, Give Your Body To It, Give Your Laugh To It, Give, When The Gravelly Sand Takes You, Your Tears To The Land. To Love Another Is Something Like Prayer And Can't Be Planned, You Just Fall Into Its Arms Because Your Belief Undoes Your Disbelief.

Yet Love Enters My Blood Like An I.v., Dripping In Its Little White Moments.

Cinderella And The Prince Lived, They Say, Happily Ever After, Like Two Dolls In A Museum Case Never Bothered By Diapers Or Dust, Never Arguing Over The Timing Of An Egg, Never Telling The Same Story Twice.