is a paternal care the best we can muster, even if this age is innocent?

the last time that door closed that heavy it shook me, and im still trembling.

it must be the age, not the time or place.

is a paternal care the best we can muster, even if this age is innocent?

the last time that door closed that heavy it shook me, and im still trembling.

it must be the age, not the time or place.

is it necessary for the pure to remain unstained?

the last crystal we scrambled to smother became dirty, and I still remember.

it must be the object, not the care or keeper

i’m sleepy so I may be incoherent

the purity of an object is unquestionable, even as we reach into filth to find it.
its becoming is its own unerringly, and our hand is just one in a billion influences that we may hope to help by
and it can be a sincere hope to help, as in support. as in to lend towards the truest bits of our own rotten objectified selves.
if it is true that one can only measure against another, than i have wasted much time dawdling. i must be swamped in weeds, thickly overgrown and all but forgotten.
forget me not, unless there is not a thing for you in me.

our purity, innocence, bequeathed by god
can be covered with the foulest muck
but I was taught scarcity in schools
unlimited wants we all have but small
is the supply

we will have to make do
with what we can redo
and what we can retouch
and what we can recover.