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Poem by Erin M. W

Your gifts are simple, tracing curves of skin, relaxing muscle;I follow you to a place I have never been,cherished, centered,balanced between your fingertips and my heart. I listen to your music and cling, fearing loss of these moments where life is simple. Our exs and children are hiding along with our checkbooks, while we rest in each other's arms and press into each others bodies as if our very bones could hear. How we belong together is as mysterious as the persecution of belief our respective grandparents survived. We are both fruits of their survival. What beliefs do we bear in our own dark times? Your gifts are simple,and all I need . By Erin M. W

the bath tub test

The Bathtub Test It doesn't hurt to take a hard look at yourself from time to time, and this should help get you started. During a visit to the mental asylum, a visitor asked the Director what the criterion was which defined whether or not a patient should be institutionalized. "Well," said the Director, "we fill up a bathtub, then we offer a teaspoon, a teacup and a bucket to the patient and ask him or her to empty the bathtub." "Oh, I understand," said the visitor. "A normal person would use the bucket because it's bigger than the spoon or the teacup." "No." said the Director, "A normal person would pull the plug. Do you want a bed near the window?" DID YOU PASS, OR DO YOU WANT THE BED NEXT TO MINE?????
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