WEAK SAUCE

It makes it like you somewhat less to know that there is so much else beyond the thin confines that test my feet and each haphazard guess at who to toss my thin wire ’round and drag across the thawing ground.

You were like a muddy river that I waded in for weeks. Now when I lay down my blankets on your shores we barely speak of anything that made us think that my long legs could ford the deeps.

Resolved: I’m a passive bastard. Declared: You don’t owe a thing. Proposed: The music should be faster. Suggested: You stop pretending that everything I did-said-thought was null and void, certainly not worth scrutiny or contemplation. I need time to prepare my statements that is why I don’t like talking. Not enough time for responding with the careful dignity that you deserve to get from me.

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~ by perfectionatrix on March 9, 2010.

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