Age

And there I was,
eyes adjusting for things my heart had already adjusted for,
pruning for expectations,
deigning to the average,
she sighed comically,
dimples at the sides of her cheeks telling stories,
sorties and ideas,
travelling vagabonds who,
didn’t truly know her name,
but who were accurate to,
her present temperament,
gerrymandering notions meant to stay the present course,
coarse and terse these withering heights,
thoughts practically posthumous that found themselves delving into me,
ideas that sought truth within my soul,
as I prevaricated like a top,
dillyin and dallyin like a medallion therein,
but true- true to self and hence reality,
which in turn was tenuous,
knowing only its moments,
times and changes that faded like autumn colors,
palor fading with summer days,
tattered page- sullen phage.

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