you connect dots,
while I see spots;
yes, those are my heels,
up where my head should be,
but my condition,
you always observe
in all its transparency:
a willing captive,
always ready to remember
to forget the past
and all of the last regret,
I remain,
often clueless,
but always ready,
always faithful,
and always about
to submit.

September 5, 2009, for the Wifey.

Copyright © 2009, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.

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