When you’re young,
you look for something to worship,
you find a uniform,
adopt an identity,
become a noun.

Then you rebel;
you resent not having your own identity,
you are suicidally disgusted with yourself
for exuberantly accepting a generic …

I want you to be my mistress for a lifetime.

I don’t want to carry the weight of the world with you,
or perpetually and publicly rearrange life’s building blocks
with a goal in mind.

That would be a waste …

The lover I still seek
is better than me.

Infinitely small and large,
She has been where I am before,
Where they gave her trophies she wouldn’t accept.
But you can see them in her eyes.

The answer to everything …