...untitled...

I call myself lacking. Of system. Of expense. Of love. Of emotion. Lacking of nourishment found in thought. Progression and most certainly interest. I call myself you. Want you. Be you. Feel you. And then on occasion all about you. I call myself a conjuction. Between us. But you. And of course me But then I find myself singularly enforced in the I and by myself in the me in the sense self provides a divided we. But on occasion there could be both. Written December 11th, 2001 © on Dec 11 2001 07:24 AM PST   18 • 0 • 10