To: Address From: Sender

Dear Despair,

Bosom companion blossom again,
be new, renew the revenue you draw directly from my breast rubbed raw,
emotions are rapids eroding will, breaking apart self and flesh into sedentary segments,
fish swim in rivers and feed on macerated joy,
fuel destroyed by the flow,
surging, course directed by the stone though stone is honed, coursing o'er to the ocean,
errybody learns the worst feeling is absence,
souls turn, tossed in a spiral 'round the void,
and I laud
as did God
the counter-rebel Want,
winning the fight for light against cold simplicity,
let life abound
complicated and procreated for recreation.

Sometimes Yours,
Luck-Dodger