thought of words

       (seeing can be deceiving
        -believe and you will see)
are our eyes worth keeping
if what we see may not be the truth
are our ears worth having
if what we hear may not be real
were we able to reach out and grab ahold of
the very ideas that are kept from us
could we gather them and bundle them
bathe ourselves in them
make love to them in the dark when
eyes and ears are numb
        (the anticipation is worse than death itself)
is happiness worth having if it
peaks and crashes
is hatred worth holding if its
anger damages both the good and the cruel
is sadness worth sulking if its
melancholy grasp merely slows, affect nothing
is death worth dying even in
the arms of a loved one?

through the mask of distruth and the fog of emotion
can we not sort through the thought of words
and find the sun that fuels all good and cruel?
galaxies rise, fall, crumble, and shine
and at the center is a single, loving heart
        (like two butterflies resting on separate flowers)