Dear Allen:

Dear Allen:

I wish you were among us so I could reach you and ask you: how could you handle all that shit?, how could you make it, sleep at night listening over and over to your stubborn inner voice… because your body’s tired, but your mind isn’t quite?

I wish you were among us so I could really get to know you, not a bit but on the whole. I could read your wordless poems, your smile, your existentialism and your slumber at moonlit nights.

I wish you were among us so I could introduce myself, tell you my demons of past lives and ultimately hug you in the midst of infinite peaceful solitude not so lonely ‘coz you’d be right there, you and your heat, and your poetry and your scent and your warmth and your hug and your smile and your glasses and your books and your chest and your hug and your heat and your warmth and your you and your you and your me. You and me reading the book of life, turning pages turning pages turning pages turning pages turning pages turning pages turning

Themonochromeman

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