Neophyte’s Soliloquy

New Year 2020


Deep into this well-kept secret garden

I stumbled, without a word of pardon

At what looked like the eleventh hour—

Late, maybe; but never a wallflower


Your loves, your losses, I breathed them all in

Through a new language no longer foreign

Reading the works of this oligarchy

I’m not sure what to write on my marquee


You, you, and you… I’m thrilled that you exist

Only time will tell how long I’ll persist

In this game, now our shared reality

Regardless of shifts in affinity






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