...The Burden of Perfection...

The momentous demise

under a slice of cake

in the handle of the knife

do you implant your vanity

and insecurity here

into the stainless steel

into the consumers belly

* * *

The New Moon shines black

crickets still wander

grasshoppers struggle in the chill

of September

Mantis upon the glass

the time for Sleep

comes and goes

the game engages

you and I

the instigation ensues

I let you win

because

I am tired

of it

the burden of perfection

is no longer mine


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