Thursday, October 31

Drat race.


My love, 
we circle each other
become trapped in war,
see no way out,
and sacrifice ourselves
to the mystery of the unknown future.

My love, 
we build castles with windows
and then hate our walls.
We dream we were never ourselves.
Then we are thankful for dinner.

My love,
we know who we are,
but we allow others to teach us about ourselves anyway;
perhaps if there is something we do not know,
life does not need to be so complicated.

My love,
we chase paper because
it is easier to represent the world
than to look it in the eye.

When I was a boy,
when I was a boy,
when you were a girl,
when you were a girl.

I cannot promise you what I will always remember.
I cannot be infinite.
I can be myself.

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