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The dreadful quietness of a sailor echoes through the conch in the child's hands telling him to stay a lighthouse for his father Because his father needed the boy as a beacon of purpose         And the boy needed his father as an anchor of comfort The pavement was cold on his feet, promising slippery foothold as soggy toes treaded upon the cracks and shifted weight on its gravel The boy was not cold when he was inside the house wrapped in blankets of his fathers letters, en-armored in foreign presents But to be warm, the boy needed a chilly pier as he conjured up an imaginary telescope that could follow his father through every wa

You're the kind of woman who would get spooked by a white moon. Butterflies at night would terrify you, and bats screaming "save me" would cripple your tendencies. You might be wary of the light from a street lamp, but you'd give a knowing smile to any ornithological pedestrian. Fires beyond your control would tremble at your footsteps, and you would free yourself from the chase of the Gingerbread Man. Claws will frighten you, sidewalks will astound you. Blue sand would empower you but the white moon still spooks you.

Only To Know I laugh. I was preaching, "I fear no evil" When I was young
 so pitifully young Are you imagining a scarier world than what exists? Boy, nothing's scarier than imagination, and nothing's more beautiful Why are you treating your vulnerability like a friend? Why are you calm in the face of your only strength? When I knew little so dangerously little My analogies and adages of what you should fear, of what will make you lonely I treated them like options!
 So why was I smiling? Smiling... with innocence? So if I know now so much now
 why am I fearing the known?
 Why am I treating my