Why would I measure

The Depth of your well

With a glass the size of my palm?

Why would you measure

The temperature of my charcoal fueled furnace

With a ruler that fits in your pocket?

As long as there is

water and fire in us both

We’ll know when it’s time

to drawn or set it on fire.

I’m not sure what’s more schizophrenic:

Holding hearts and feeling nothing,

Not holding hands and feeling everything.

Anticipation of craziness,

Boredom of the developing lunatic.

Euphoria meets me halfway.

We’re holding hearts and feeling everything.

Enjoying craziness while developing.

On the verge, but not quite:

You can’t fall forward,

You can’t fall backwards.

When was the last time you cooked something new?

I bet you do it every day.

Was it made out of your body parts?

Does it have cognitive sprinkles on top?

Did you knead your soul in it?

Would you serve it warm or cold?

Have you tried to re-heat it? How did that work out?

And after you ate it, were you re-born again?

If you cook something new everyday

A week from now you’ll look back and feel nauseated.

A year from now you won’t recognize it at all.

A decade from now you’d advise your children against it.

So why worry if what you cooked today is tasteless?

Dismember it into tiny pieces and

Eat it all.

Shedding skin

And breathing light

Peel my soul

With appetite.

One by one

It all comes off

There’s no skin,

No bone, no cough.

Standing naked

With no shame

Feeling fearless

About the flame.

Even if

It comes to burn

Make the fire

I won’t turn.

I can look you dead in the face

laser-blast your pain away.

Hide yourself in outer-space,

I’ll come fishing for my prey.

Hide yourself in plain sight,

I’ll blow-up the dynamite.

Cut-out cardboard of your hight

Will replace the burial site.

Near or far, we flock together,

Superheroes – they might say.

But on very stormy weather,

I will slay the clouds abay.

We were measuring the distances between chakras

with a wooden ruler the size of my thumb.

We had to stop the charade and call “abracadabra”

for all of the light to return to one solid hum.