Her scent was subtle like the amber candle I sometimes lighted up on solitary She wasn’t that simple but secure, well-rounded one could say
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Where I was, well I was a lopsided renegade A somewhat lost cause —lost to myself that is and not to others Those around me still had faith in me but I never quite got beyond the futility of it all For even those who convert upon their deathbed have ‘faith’ for a second before they fall or perhaps fly into the anonymity of death But isn’t this the most futile of epochs, one lingering whisper towards an anonymous deity and all is forgotten, I think not
I suppose then the reason I give those who seem to have faith in me such a hard time is because I sense them as seeking to affirm some element of themselves within my own absurdity This in turn merely multiplies the absurdity of such a faith until we find ourselves sacrificing our nearest and dearest
I suppose then that it is most absurd of me to smile as she greets me in our first met She moves closer, a big accordion smile juts out of my seams Rather bashfully I tip my hat A tune springs forth signaling my surrender We converse, I laugh a lot She never stops seeing my eyes, while I ******* my cigarette
I suppose then that her enchanting complexities security now becomes perforated by my own absurd faith