Two more poems by me. Please enjoy! And if you like these, make sure to search for other poems by me! Zen The little Japanese girl passes through a path of tall straight bamboo and then bows through the torii gate into the Zen garden. She smiles when she sees her grandfather tending to Buddha in perfect satori, and rushes, albeit lightly, quietly, like an ever loving spring to his side at the end of the garden. A perfect moment of familial harmony. Meanwhile, within city limits, Godzilla rains hell on Tokyo. How I Would Like To Tell You  I knocked on my neighbor's door early in June, and the one, Heidi, answered. It was the first time I'd seen her (I had only just moved into my townhome) and when I did, when I saw her, my heart sank six inches and felt waves of stomach acid licking its feet. This smiling belle, something a mix between Northern looks and Southern welcome warmth, opened the door and told me, Yes, there will still be a party tonight at eight, and yes, you are still invited, we'd love to have you over to get to know you. How I would like to tell you that when she said, We'd love to have you over to get to know you, I was hoping she meant to trick me into coming in so that she may grab me by my arm and lead me downstairs into her dimly lit and charming room. How I would like to tell you the things I imagine we'd do once there, but I'm far more obsessing over the panic before then. A billion neurons firing in the first five seconds when she grabs my arm, forty thousand hairs on end (each a little lightning rod alert to her contact, reaching out to every rustle of her dress) in the next three slow seconds as we turn to descend the stairs, and one impossible question amounting to, Is this real? I can count those things easily, but in those six determinative seconds as we step like ghosts down the stairs, I cannot count the possibilities that swell to fill my field of thought and expand my veins and make my heart burst. How I would like to tell you that in spite of having one arm in mine for nearly a year already, when I turn the key and enter through the front door of my apartment, I close my eyes and imagine that when I open them, I will be in the living room and then descending the stairs into dim light and darkness with the woman next door, one iridescent white hand on my arm. How I would like to tell you how my heart sinks at the thought.