Together isn’t 
about what 
together is
about who
and not
what the 
two who’s 
do together 
but who 
the two 
that do 
together are 

Titles labels
and things 
we are
little lights 
quiet familiarity 
known to 
having been 
once before 
stamp and 
postmark telling 
all that 
we’ve been 
once there

Most of the world 
lives in chaos but 
me I live on
an island in an
oasis of bliss rooted
not but rather free
to bob about like 
a cork in this 
sea of humanity tethered 
to but tied not 
to the order of 
the Universe partial to 
but not part of 
a buoy or float 
just me quietly free

If life were 
an urn then
peace is the 
emptiness things fill
the void and 
I scoop and 
pour and scrape 
and scrub and 
repeat removing any 
chaos and distractions 
causing me discomfort 

It’s a poor
man who holds
the keys to 
Heaven for they
are forged from 
humility and a
rich man who 
holds the keys 
to Hell for 
they are wrung 
from the blood 
of the poor