i could spend a lifetime wondering
at the details of taste but that
would leave me here cold
in my noises
and my silences.
there are stones left to turn
and some fingers
to be burned.
some rules to break.
it's no simple path out that door,
we have ceremonies to follow alone
that get ugly fast
and we're known to move slow.
sometimes i am asked
about my beings or doings
but i have no words to appreciate
the sentiment
so i answer with no words.
sometimes i'm not good enough.
but the wine is good
and the chocolate sweet
so why do i worry?
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