London Poem: Day 32

18 September

I am still small,
But what troubles me
With this stirring world,
Is the perception of growth.
Faults become clear,
Though their transparency
Remains as I pass through them.
How does one bypass such
Insecurity to allow the sweet bashful love to bloom?
Sight becomes meaningless
When unsteady legs fail to march in straight lines.
We walk together,
In bitter embraces,
But she continues on,
And I form tight twirling circles
Waiting only for her to come back
And we try again.

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