I love you for the glitter in your eyes
The glow in your cheek when your eyes meet mine.
I love you for the words you whisper in my ear
Hello from you is special because you so decide.
I love you for your wisdom and your follies
Each strand of gray and each step in the mire.
I love you for the warmth of your hands
Small touches upon the cheek and passing smiles.
I love the strength of your arms, the whisper in your touch
the wise man in your eyes and the boy that you deny.
Most of all I love the man that you promised me to be
and the man you are now; herein the truth lies.

I remember reading American Gods and there was a part in the book where a female character was told "you wouldn't believe me if I told you" and she chanted away on all the things that she believes in. I guess we all have our version of the world in our head that we believe in, and it's best to get it out of my head before it becomes a part of my subconscious.

I believe that underneath it all we all have a good heart in each of us.
I believe in angels that watch over me.
I believe in a collective source of goodwill that we coined God.
I believe in responsibility for the ones we love or have loved.
I believe that when we love someone we love that person for the person him/herself and not his/her qualities.
I believe in acceptence of the world around us.
I believe in peace of mind and contentment for the way we are.
I believe there is evil/disease/accidents/disasters in the world but want to see beyond that and see the world as a whole.
I believe in empathy.
I believe none of us are as guiltless as we like to think ourselves to be.
I believe in pro life because the helpless should have a choice also.
I beleve life isn't fair.
I believe in love.

I have a secret.

The common cure for a secret is to lock it away, throw away the key, hidden in the back of the mind and never looked at again. Another is to dig a hole in the ground, whisper the secret into it and bury it. If some dog doesn't find it I'll be fine. Some finds it much easier to go to a confession, or pass it on to a friend, but then it becomes no longer a secret because a secret is a secret as long as no one knows but you.

Some things I told myself for weeks not to think about and it comes back at night to haunt me in strange warm tones. Sounds that I can see in colors but could not hear. As if I am listening to a sunset or a rainbow, enchanted by the autumn twilight, living and breathing the salt of the ocean. I would sit up at night in the dark with my eyes closed in a restless sleep with waking dreams of someone dear. The eyes that draws me and I could not bear to look at for fear my heart would burst. That stickiness at the end of a martini glass that promised sweetness. It is but a secret in beneath that tree where I have hidden my heart on a chain and promised myself I would never love again. It sings to me at night.

My secret makes the sky not merely blue but a promise of another day that I could be with you. My secret gives my voice a tinge of violet and it blushes. It gives meaning to everything.

And for better or worse, it is no longer a secret because you share it with me.

Vast the sea, breached by sands of time. reached by hands of mine.
The heat of the day has strained my thoughts to almost un-barable
points of deep deep inner. Oh cool night fall so as that my breath my become easy.
She is near.
Moon within space as i within these walls of concrete and steel. My road has
crumbled. Leave me to fall into what lay beneath waiting. how long have you waited my dear
Faith.
I have fallen. Never thought I would, but in deed it is true. you know.
day dream within a day dream within a day dream.
Where has time gone.
I remember standing by the mountain.
will you come....you and I, someday.
For now..........
Eric

Been reading Suetonius' The Twelve Caesars, trr. Robert Graves. Amazing book. If you've ever studied music, especially classical music, you might have came by a writer named David Barber. He dated my vocal teacher in university and she described him as "extremely weird". David Barber wrote humourous yet truthful books on classical music history, among them being "Bach, Beethoven and the boys" and "When the Fat Lady Sings". Suetonius' book is like that except he probably meant to be simply presenting the truth.

The truth involves Julius Caesar's vain and dandy-ish habits about his looks, his numerous love affairs natural and unnatural alike, the jests and rowdy songs written about him among which stands this statement of his being "every woman's husband and every man's wife."