I

The identity I have
Took me a while,
But, in reflection,
I think it the wrong one.
I am not sure
Of the things I do,
Or if it is her
I am supposed to love.
And my discomfort grows
With the passing tides
Conscionable objections
And the growth of disquiet.

Still, it’s
Not a bad life.

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One thought on “I

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