THE One . . .
Once again I was the one found wanting,
with the unkempt love of a gnarled, starving animal;
whereas before I'd held up women at gunpoint, hunting
whores as hors d'oeuvres, a hungry barking handful.
Now I see love from below, not above.
I used to kick at the settling of a romantic's dream.
How I've screamed for a peace far from love,
but now I'm tearing at my eye's seams,
because once I exposed my skull to great Beauty,
my mind's been quite full of nude ideas & subjection.
Since then, I've enlisted in love's army, as is my duty
to the being standing before me, hostage of my affection.
How now I'm the one down on grace & out of power,
waiting hours for a response from my responsible citizen,
who truly views me as some new side-thing. I lower
my position and question the volume of this romantic admittance.
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