This Love Hurts More Than It Looks Like.

I am completely and one hundred percent in love with a man I will never ever have. He is a man of insight and depth. I hold him higher than most men I know and he doesnt even acknowledge me. Everything that he says is like oxygen to me, norishment for my creativity and intellegance. I am pained that he has nothing to do with me but I am happy enough to just listen to him, just listen. He wrote a new blog and I'm going to post part of it here.

You spread your legs like a disease,like the branches of a tree parting to letthe sun bleed bittersweet purposeand praise in the prayers of twigs,leaves, and sheets.Dripping twisted reasoning fromlimbs inviting a calm climb to slippingcomfort in stale clarity. No warmth isfound in parting legs that masqueradeas arms open in embrace.I hide deep in the hollow of my own body wrapped in sweet bitter bark blessed by a new sun settinghalf blasphemies on what i view asholy.I slit these lids to a four-corneredexit and pivot eight points to a sober sight.