poetry critical

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you will explain to me
that I am a resident of my pronouns.
for better or for worse, you will explain,
I have weeded myself into delusions of progress
when no such event merited so great a feat.  
stung, but understanding, I will admit I wallow like
a dozing cat inside the beaming sun of my insecurities.
"where does it live? your incompetence."
nowhere. Checkmate, dear friend.
"you are perfect."
well, that's all the second opinion
I will ever need.
i will never use "home"
without you in mind.

22 Oct 12

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