Me and Love

Shine, Light, Flourescence: blinding. I can't see for the light. Some think it is a matter of the opposite, but I am not so sure. There is light and there is, for some, Light. I tell you what son, I can't see for either. One is bright, attractive, sexy--the essence the erotic full of desire. The other is unified, everlasting, self-giving--the essence of what we call love without desire. But, I tell you another thing, neither of them seems to know, as hard as they try, that exploited, abused and raped thing we like to call love. Strange don't you think: that when love loses its desire, the erotic is eradicated. Yet, when the erotic becomes bare desire, love becomes superfluous. We dangle in the polarity of the two, looking at one another(s)--yes, in the light--wondering both why we need the Other--why and how we desire so endlessly, and, why and how that desire can never be reduced to objectification. Why are you Other? And, in the end, what does it have to do with me being me?

keep it real,

Tears and Heaven

"Would you know my name?" "Would it be the same?"

I guess what I am asking is, well, could I call you. You know, could I call you by the name here--the name I knew you by--the one which was given to you and you responded to? Because, I feel like if I could, there would still be the "you" there is to "me". There might still be an us, in cosmic, heavenly sort of way. I feel like if you let me call you by that name, then the time, the tears, the trying, the smiles, the laughter--memory--might be real. But, if not--if I can't call you, if I don't know your name--or the one that has been given to you--then, well, there will be memories, but no reality. See the difference?