Friday, September 27, 2013

May to December: a reconciliation

(a found poem taken from the Defendant’s Answer in Case #134400348)

Baby, love is a dangerous diagnosis, 
intellectually dishonest.

I was old and frantic—and Child, 
you have to deal with failed husbands.

I admit my emotional infidelity,
an absence of feelings;

I needed to overcome the boredom
of identity crisis,

but it continues much the same.

And Baby, we involuntarily settle
with single contentment,

coping with separation,
by never accepting discernible change.

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