in the simplest sense,
we hate to wait for each other,
so we don’t, and immediately look else where,
anywhere, scurrying, or, standing firm
about ones principles, exuding morality—
such is “all are shepherds to their flock”ﷺ,
yet not all shepherds are leaders, and now,
some sheep wear proud their clout,
ungentle, unthrifty—
and yet there she is, my love,
never hidden far from me, and so,
her distance: it is the world’s jest
while I am born free, so to me,
time bears its immanence,
but I cut through it evenly,
and manage the deaths of my foes
with patience’s sword,
all that would tell the sun not to shine,
or the moon not to follow,
and the stars not to shimmer,
fading in and out, graced by a cause
as fair in measure and power
as the wind cradling the earths wide seas—
telling to the keenest eye,
what weather will come,
and fruits be seen—
and time and time again
the story tells the same.

look at woman, then turn away—
see how you give to her
just whatever time you say,
and you slow the sway
of her space, her dresses
undressing the mind—
then, when she speaks to you,
as all things do,
and you have nothing to say,
that she forgives you is the same
as when she stands alone
and leaves you—
then her lie you’ll forgive, too,
and call us all truth-speakers obscene,
that we were to deny her enslavement
and say to see to beauty pristine,
in all actions and modes,
and mindfully compacted abodes—
see how there are no individuals there,
in that place inside the eyes’ sight,
only families, royal subjects so fair,
to a king and his queens of the night.

but she’s always right when you’re wrong,
the system enslaves both vicious and brave.

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