Too much love, I don't know where to put it.
Your shelf is empty, once over-flowing.
And your brother is silent in need.
I can reach there, but there's nowhere to put it.
Not my Halloween. Not my night brite life.
If I could hold a hand, it would be yours.
Sitting all knowing in the knowing.
I have too much love, too much.
I don't know where to put it.
On the shelf with all of the dark things,
expiring for lack of air,
or with the new life, the new light,
that chokes the mold I thrived upon,
and grew a deep dark madness of the best kind.
Goodnight, Halloween. Japheth went deep.
Deep into night and bad.
I sit still, restless, in the barely night.
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