How Is It To Write?

The essence of love, of strength, of courage, of life. Seeping out from women. *** As I felt your artful fingers walking up my chest I heard them sing, "Howdy do, life's brief guest?" And I remembered you; my mind filling in again Memories, happier ones, one with a blood stain That time of the day when Eve and Nyx say hello The day when began your monthly menstrual flow I knew right, though you never bothered to tell me I knew all your cravings; your tantrums, I could see See taking over you again, but here without a hint Going to be a good day, but in the end, it just didn't One ignorant boy, young and insensitive and dumb Pointed out to you; I still detest his crooked thumb And made fun, of you and of what made you a girl Of the fact why pistil is the innermost of the whorls Not for protection from the world who'll pluck it out But because not everyone deserves to see it sprout I thought the same, rather, I didn't think much at all I thought what you'll ...

Ashes are the most difficult part to handle. Even more than the loss, of course. *** I will tell you when it is time for me I hope you will be present there to see To see that I have lived up to my word Of recalling you till my existence blurred I want you there, but with no tears please Or at the deathbed, you will fail to appease Appease my soul, leaving my mortal body When I see last, you shouldn't be shoddy I want you happily smiling at my ashes For only you can see the joy that flashes Flashes out of my black ash left behind This is one job for which you're assigned