Letter to Polly

Now that it's almost over with the house and long marriage, I'm so sorry, but I have some things I still need to say. Not saying they need to be shared, to Mary. Just saying they need to be shared.

I'm frankly ashamed it's to you, Polly. But I suppose the reason I am sharing, to you, is I still have this dream of having my unforgivable sin forgiven by Mary.

My sin is this mostly painful thing with Leota, and the other women, has shown me the beauty and harmony of what Mary and I had as a couple, as a unit, as a community of two.

My sin is I now see I needed to love Mary more, burn for her more, in the way I do women with an unknowable capacity to love me, or destroy me, probably both.

As I've said before, I wonder/regret if I am/was that kind of burning to Mary. I only know I must finally admit she was/is not to me.

But there was love and more so beauty in what Mary and I shared all those years. In our precious baby boy, Henry. In our homes. In our Thanksgivings and Christmases.

I am just so sorry and ashamed it took so long to become a man that can finally understand his own heart.

The Nations

We're two, different, sovereign people. Maybe that's what makes it awkward? Maybe real, mature love is like a nation within a nation? Maybe the union will always be imperfect, but vastly superior to war?

In any truce, both sides concede something.

I can be your 'I Don't Know' man. But don't think I can be your (always) 'Yes' man. You're wrong if you don't know that makes me sorry.

Two

So I'm basically in love with two women.
One that doesn't need me (maybe wants me).
And one that needs me but doesn't want me,
because what I am doesn't match her image of herself.

This is what I am

I want you to be someone that loves me...
This is what I am.
This is what I am loves you.

Crying

So she was just here. Danger and unknowing.
Worse for wear on hips like the perfect, small school, middle linebacker.
Made mistake of texting about "adore" discussion on Tavis Smiley and there she is, crying.

Existence, cont...

I have no desire to exist except as the projection of a woman.

MB

Picks flowers with the (M)(O)(O)(N)
Masturbates with the (B)(E)(A)(M)

I told god

I told god that I love her.
God told me he would sell my house.
[Reasons I don't belong in this world.]

Flinched

Code code touched me today. Probably because of the work I'm doing for one of the company's biggest clients. It felt strange. But neither of us flinched.

I know you have your clock. But I have mine too. And it says 72 hours is about as long as you can go without holding me.