a poem for today, 21 September 2012
[a word-sorted sonnet of two sentences and its image]
I recognized waking reality, assessed the relative pain in my back and neck, stretched, and paused to stare blankly out the window for a moment or two before fumbling for my glasses and, per my ritual, reaching to the coffee table by my bed for my laptop to check my e-mail, facebook, twitter, and the blog’s moderation queue.
If you can have compassion for yourself you will feel less like a pervert so women will stop reacting to you like you are a pervert then you can have a healthy loving relationship and you will forget ever feeling like a pervert.
No comments:
Post a Comment