this is too young for story telling
it is too small to magnify
but I have stood here, my god, so often
time has made me shy.
to praise, devote, inhale their love
as if they're unique companion I have sought.
usually not.
the present tells a better story.
you stay for one two three
as if it was eternity
and then we leave.
the curtains fall.
the show discontinues due to
too muchs
or not enoughs
but I am usually bored.
so often I have promised into the wishful night
into my dreary book,
no man will take me from myself
and then they do
and I dissolve.
But here I write it black on white
into the ether, a blogging site
you will not swallow me
I will not swallow you
I will not draw my lust, love and light
into you
I will not hope for what I cannot know
and I will not dream of a future that hasn't grown
I will be here
in the now
in the present of what is
and if it not you, it will be someone else
and if it is not someone else, I will still move on
I will not wait for a man
but will dance for myself.
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