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De mortuis nil nisi bonum Say nothing but good of the dead Unless they come back to visit Nightly and fill your life with dread. “Omnia vincit amor,” Love conquers all things, she said “et nos cedaus amori” Let us yield to love instead. Her lips met mine and so we kissed Her breath smelled of the grave Her eyes met mine and I was trapped And lost my chance my soul to save. “Mors mihi lucrum,” she did say “Death to me is reward,’ and now I will offer the same to you Eternal life I do bestow “Mors tua, vita mea” Your death, my life A happy trade I would say Take me again as your wife

another day pen falls to my planner check, check, check more tasks I completed how organized and modest it seems to simplify hours down to papered lists robotic routines lack pleasure & passion but are rarely left unfinis... unfathomably boring leading lead feet so I took off my shoes and barefoot, I traversed trembling unknown with my lists and my pen so I could compl... ugh, so type A exhaustion-a friend with an organized list and unorganized mind where does one begin to line up the thoughts and the memories to check each of them off? my mind is an orchard with no pathways to pick fruits from my branches I sleepwalk in sunlight an