Eye Wonder, or Maturity

I slept in the middle of the bed last night,

for the first time in two years,

since I left you.


Yesterday, I saw a couple hold hands while I sang, “take my hand, live while you can”

and a buzzy bug tease me at, “I wonder, when I sing along with you…”

It had me at eye wonder.

My worth is in under my ownership now, and

my sex is under construction,

my gaze intent,

I am the oyster not falling for the tricks of the Walrus.

It does not serve me anymore, not to be picky.

This is my graduation from certain mistakes,

a plea for distance from casual,

from the memory of you on your haunches,

only concerned with your pleasure.




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