...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