Shadows can’t dance without a little light.
I believe in the need for darkness,
I believe you need to be lost to be found.
I believe I entered this world crying,
I believe it would show great maturity to leave it snoring.
“Every sin carries a grace within.”
Did the Buddha really say this? And if he did, was he being sarcastic?
Where we going? We’re all just running backwards on a train.
I found a sheet of paper on the bottom of my drawer
with a language lesson from a language and a lesson I don’t remember learning.
I just said, ‘I love you’ in a language I don’t understand, a language I can’t even name.
Who taught me this?
Shouldn’t I remember who taught me, I love you?
I guess I didn’t learn it.
Maite Zaitut = I love you
written in my handwriting
no date, no more to tell.
I simply have to accept Maite Zaitut means I love you, though,
it could mean I want to fondle your penguin,
it could mean nothing,
I’m trusting handwriting
and I’m trusting love,
cause word meanings come and go,
just look at what’s become of: wicked, sick, gnarly, radical, cool, hip, groovy, shit, get, gay, fierce, awesome, tramp, chink,
but love is love even when I say, I love baseball.
Love is the white shirt under black light.