Because I Love You, That Dream Again (Or, Happy ever sometime after) | a poem by a Faust

 

Because I Love You, That Dream Again

(Or, Happy ever sometime after)

when i at times deny some things in phrases 

that are also implying their truthfulness 

by the very fact, the natural meaning, the denial

sometimes i then retry the same dumb things in phases 

but i am falsely reviling their usefulness 

why i am  lacking the eyes to match the feeling of my smile

because i love you

that dream again

in the universe next door

in the world of forms above

where things in themselves know just what to say

where love is always love

i 'm dreaming that dream again 

that sometime happy ever after 

the dream where everything is nice

the dream i cannot help but must refrain

the most imperative categorical ever 

demanding use of passive voice

it must be given freely yes 

for your listening is freely best 

for you —to  most naturally — agree

it must of course be your idea

 per corporis sanguinem non meae Lamiae 

neque pythonissam  Medea

but i fear you’ve grown to hate  - my voice -

i fear you’ll think my tone to be - complaining -

that would more than a pity be a sin

i’m afraid i’ have to start again

to try to tell you of the dream 

that i want you so to want the knowing, 

are you asking? are you asking? 

really asking? 

really?

its… 

the thing that keeps me going

the dream i dare not voice

the dream i cannot tell you plainly

because this has to be your choice

and chosen healthily and sanely

i almost dream that dream again that most happy ever after 

would you believe the thing that i want more than any any thing 

is to hear you need to speak the sacred truth from the fullness of your heart 

is to see you silent & still can be or bear to be no longer

lest your silence decieve me into believing

you endorsed a bad way a bad me 

that you would let me go on wrongheaded

i think —  or am i — just stubborn — 

thick headed  i want to be loved as the me i made myself 

jaw sticking out to be loved as i love

but first i must be loved

it must one day be that i will heap up out of the small things of myself 

something tall enough and great enough

that you couldn’t bear for me to think it, the very possibility anathema

upon hearing it decribed it moves you to negate

& o how i long to hear you negate the thing that i most fear

don’t understand why i’m so wrong 

i  hate failing when i’m maybe almost there

there where you let yourself dare to not stop yourself where 

you let yourself care enough to change my mind

care enough to let the edge be rough when you  know the heart & soul is kind