What if we become
open to the belief
that the overwhelming
desire to be loved
exactly as I am
where I stand
in existence to the grand
was the exact place
my heart should live
in feeling everything
is alright
exactly as it pertains
to the world
My brain is muddied
I refrain
but my fond
seeps through like morning dew
I see the sparkle
of the grass
in the way you shine
Even in relation to glass
transparent in a way
As if my brain has
invented special rays
to look inside others
and see where their heart goes
Is it yearning?
Is it yearning?
In the warm aging youth
of moving stars
rearranging shapes
The sun still burns
in grand retrospect
no matter how closeto everything around
And you my dear
burn my eyes
as if I were
seeing the sun in space
Kail Anderson 