That Immortal Half of Me

And if my word is spoken, then it shall be conceived by me. For that I am not speaking to anyone but me. And if I open a door, then it is for I to take the step—to say hi to thee, he who travels with me. Oh my duality, the one that frightens me in the presence of my lovers, the quivers of my seed, in pureness & nudity. 

I have not made these travels before, may the length of these meadows be met by the glow of these beams. And we grow old and wonder, for we were all once children in the presence of that seed, and thus I ask is life consuming me? Or am I the bearer of wounds, incomprehensible to me? I love, love all that is, all I have ever known is to be but about this one feeling in me, not a to castigate a soul or act for thou is to heal. For once a soul, always a will to be. 

Like the way we care for cats makes sense to me, all these ologies await for me to be hang & taken by me, like a soul jäger for God, like Azrael, oh what a hilarious trilogy! Have I apologized to you yet? Am I to go insane and send a letter or better still, a gift a surprise, a present! Isn’t that all you long & have longed for, to be? Not even a question of who or what but to truly be? So you heil & haw as you take a step back and ask. 

Once born, a body dies. Your fate is but one, it is preconceived come let me, the one God the lover of the seed, throw thee in hell or heaven for you might be eternally happy to sleep! But we beg you, we beg, please! Don’t touch the question, don’t touch the seed! But I rage & cry, I hold my breath & lie, is this really all there is to me?

Oh but no the play is just about to proceed, for I dare to care after you, child, and for you to be healed. I take it an oath upon me, the moon & and the seed. For you are to grow old, sad but free. The freedom of the human who springs from the seed. 

I teared an eye and then a second as I remembered you in my dream, my warm friend, may you rest in great peace, a life so full it torn me. Shivers that night and for a week, like I had a cold in me. For what am I, a fool to not acknowledge a hurt so deep? So I’ll be the fool, I’ll take it upon me, but this past travels with me, and for as long as I am—I will hold you here, so warm and free, you dance with my words and when I speak, the heavens don’t deserve you my friend, your life is my vow, my burning seed.