How many times have I exclaimed perfection for the ones who possess my mind. I’ve lit them each up like a fire. And sayin it outta loud purring as I go feels real nice. Cos that’s the sound of the first syllable. Does it make me feel like I seal it someplace and can lay down and die? Maybe I’m lazy for ever uttering the word. Over wine and cascading smoke from my mouth hole to the lovely lassies who ask how I am. Cos I think now snug in enough days since each of the collection of limbs I once spoke of and I only think now that it’s kinda nice that people do serve their purpose.
Perfection fades quick and I feel silly for a bit but I don’t dwell. I just pretend I never said it. Like a drunken night. But now I am confused. Cos I don’t know what is what. And when I think darling of you as perfect which at the moment I do believe, I second guess myself. Is my heart only yearning for rest? I crave rest and yet I don’t. Cos I had brekky with all these couples. And they looked so neat and tidy. They smelt like laundry powder and nothing had a crease in it. They smelt of never having sex. But maybe that was my judgementalness coming through over avo on toast. I saw the husbands watch me dance the night before. I couldn’t help it, I’d look up and there they were. I knew they had once looked at their wives like that, they must have to have ended up where they were. If that’s was what rest is well that makes me so sad. How gorgeous is someone just doing their thing and being free. Maybe they envied me. Maybe it was nothing sexual. I never want to be the battleaxe. I fall so out of love and out of appreciation. And I can cut and I can create a brand new start better than Van Morrison. It makes me so scared and insecure. Cos you are what you desire and you know what you know. And when your mind is able to detach so bluntly and blatantly and you know you are just as human as everyone else how can you trust someone will ever really truly love you?