Innocence For Sale

Find that friend that won't betray you and then quick! hold them fast and give them things, free things, things you've found, things you've made or things you've written. Work hard for them, earn them, and put out, too.

Riddle me this:

If the only happiness is freedom, how do you limn the shape of perfect rapture found in being bound by choice?

Of being married at the marrow and proximally by the pillow?

Of floating together down a river of sleep?

Goya just wanted to paint his mistress. Me? I just wonder how anything survives. No, it isn't very pretty in the foxholes of Operation Shutdown on these hot dead battery dying days, but we all do what we all always do: what we can and cross phalanges II and III for the rest. Throw good money after bad, as my mom would say my dad would say. We are all terminal (causing, ending in, or approaching death) and you'd have to be religious to believe otherwise. Babies say things that are wildly inappropriate and simultaneously soberly honest and they've never met a euphemism they don't like (to repeat) so yes, I'll stay in bed for the better part of year, if I have to, because I remember when she was very, very young and very, very small and I was rocking her to sleep in the old blue rocker I was rocked to sleep in and her chin was on my shoulder and her chubby rag doll arms were around my neck and all my equilibrium slipped away as I felt her milky-sweet breath on my skin and breathed her hair like air and rubbed small circles into her back with the palm of my hand when suddenly I felt her tiny hand on my nape, rubbing small circles. We revolve around the sun but we live only for each other.

Wait for me.