Symmetry asked me
which side I liked better.
I regretted my choice
and the deliberate waste of time,
debited from my life.
I wrinkle in the search for the definite,
the ultimate and the final.
Every victory opens the door
to a new kind of suffering
and it never ends.
I know I’ll keep trying
to remove vapor from hot tea.
So many faces don’t look like mine.
They are everywhere,
they won’t let me rest.

2017-08-03T03:32:37+00:00 Categories: Poetry|Tags: , |