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A Flock of Sparrows for Majel: Would You be so Tender, My love

A Flock of Sparrows for Majel

(About a 2 minute read)

In my gloomier evenings, my love,
Or even in my darker nights,

The nights when my sun threatens
To implode into a neutron star
From which so little of me can escape
To be with you — even in my darker nights,

Would you be so kind, my love,
Would you be so tender,
As to poke some holes in me
With the sharp blade of your wit?

You, who in my darker hours,
Have ever been the  one,
The one I most can count on
To come close enough to risk my gravity,
Come close enough to care.

I have heard how some find catharsis and release
In writing, but I have at most
Only ever found clarity there.
And clarity is at times too grim for me.

Please save your sorrys and your grim
Commiserations for those who might have a chance
Of taking some comfort in them.

For me, my love, poke holes in me.
When you see I am in danger
Of imploding into myself,
Poke holes in me.

I find catharsis in humor only,
Only in humor, do I find some measure of release.

In my darker hours, pole some holes
By making light and fun
Of the darkness that I have become.
Make light and fun the darkness I’ve become.
Poke some holes.
Poke some holes in the darkness I’ve become.

In your witty, tender deprecations, my love,
I find the best of all the humor that I can then hear.
Would you be so tender, my love,
As to poke some holes in me
When I most need holes
To save me
From imploding
Into myself
In the bending gravity
Of sorrow.

9 thoughts on “A Flock of Sparrows for Majel: Would You be so Tender, My love”

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