For The New Year

Lonely as I am

I think of giving my love to women that are likewise lonely.

Love's absence is only occasionally without cause;

humans can be ugly, we 

can be petty & terrible, or vain as death. We can be cold, 

careless,

callous, or crazy;

but like attracts like, 

mine would be lean [or small], adorable,

undoubtably crazy.

So I look for solitary women around me,

who talk to themselves,

or drink too deeply from the wells of adornment,

those who have much much more love for pets than people,

who fear the accidental eye contact & seek to remove the risk

burying their gaze in fiction

they who have all but turned their back on our 

collective modern madness.

I want to love them. 

All of them. 

All of you.

[One at a time.]

You deserve love,

all of you.

that which cannot be understood 

by those minds who flock with fashion

[& mock passionate depth]

is the greatest resource of all. 

Your own unique ways

[when I am allowed to see them]

drive me to contemplate dancing,

right out on the street, 

dancing.

You have concerns.

You have worries,

bills, family problems, 

baggage from the last lover,

your boss is an oblivious ass,

you have student loans,

you have cystic fibrosis or lupus,

you don't want to end up ruining our long friendship,

there are a million reasons why it seems like a bad idea,

and you're probably right.

We are all mistakes to be made. 

Mistakes become stories.

Friends become stories. 

Stories become memories.

Our memories are our last friends. Even if we make this mistake 
together, we will still, 

once again,

be friends.