Never doubt me and you'll never be wrong, I wanted to admit, like a confession to the crime of an omnipotent alter ego brewing in the phrase so radiant and familiar I don't even know you anymore... I need a better friend. Myself. We're finally in love again, as if for the first time. His poems were so good I thought he was black. I painted him thus. He was. Til a google image search shattered all my myths again, as if for the first time. It doesn't make sense, how much I love my grandfather, there must be another world. In that world the time he told my mom to put me up for adoption to disentangle the bloodline from blackness, I wasn't listening from the future with a camera on my shins and no one deserves to be punished for shattering his own myths. Silence is a life sentence so we broke it so dashing-- when I came in all right and timeless like never doubt me and you'll never be wrong and he didn't. His love is so strong I think he's been black before. In a past life or everything. And all his life he's been an attic poet so quiet I had to admit if for him to disentangle the bloodline from the double time, I mean the two timing you have to do to keep faithful to the American Dream. In the most incredible photos we all look like toys
