Who would have thought
I would find credence
In my own form of purdah

The once unmistakable ardor
Seems to be more remote
More echt and unimpeachable

Unique to my own cognition
A striking but peculiarly vague idea
In which I place my confidence

No smiles aside from the normal
Awed in the construct of no tears
Surprised in the lack of a frown

Putative in the idea
that all this is not what I took it for
Sadly not as romantic

All it was now was a fixation
An illogical, unhealthy
and compulsive preoccupation

Pulling me lower into hades
And parallel to self-pity
Unconstructive and hurtful

Yet I do admit my anger
My utter disdain and loathing
For events that have come and gone

To borrow a word from someone else:
A "Monumental" mistake that maybe worth regretting... Maybe

I adjudge it as mine
But I have said/written it
And I really meant it at that time

So I do not withdraw it
I regret it
But that is all I shall do

Now it has come full-circle
Secernate circles, each owning one
Each unique and immiscible.

No longer your enemy
but much less your well-wisher
Just as was desired and finally achieved

Trussed no more
To the abstract of abstraction
Or the specifics of the specific

Going for the fresh
The novel
The new
Everything that isn't me,
Everything that isn't you
Posted by yabs on March 7, 2008 at 02:25 PM | Comments

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