Paulio (So?) 27.3.014

So what if I want you in my life
(but have no idea who you are)?
So what if I choose my words so carefully--
but have no idea what they mean
(as the Tennessee Honey metabolizes)--

elected selectively, as hairs plucked
from a maniacal trichster's scalp?

(So what.)

So what if I play mind-games with myself?
Will you play with me (will you hold me,
will you entertain me [these fantasies],
will you reciprocate my hands' healing measures)?

No.  No, you will not.

So why do I want this?

Because I have shown you new things;
I have brought something
to your table
(and you say your food [the act
of cooking]
is Love-- and I know it to be true) . . .

So what if I sit here pondering,
mired
in the Nothing
that is the displacement between You,
and Him
(and really, there are no Others),
and all of the rest who have come before;

so what if I spin around and

(round, glassy eyes)

around inside my head; so what
if the Tennessee Honey
(metabolized, metastasized
[what has metastasized in me, has it come down from {the other} Him--
my Elder--
whose flesh bears no relation {but that of marriage
and chosen family?}]
fully, marching onward)

might soon bring the room to spinning?

Is any of this less true?

Where
and/or
who
are We?

Is there really any meaning (I need it I need it I need it), or
are these the mind-games of which you speak?

If every exhalation and exaltation (upon your entering [into me])
sees the departure of countless bits of matter particulate
(molecule, atom, proton neutron electron and so on)
which have comprised both stars and God Incarnate,

then why must No Meaning be found in between
the spaces nullified by our mutual embrace?

What have you to say?

So?

What have you to say?