perfect women

Posted bybernardsbarnesPosted inPoetry

women come into my life
too perfect to make mine
I could never be enough
they exist in my life
they love me and I them
can’t allow myself to make them mine
fear that I would not be perfect too
purgatory
endless
hopeless
infatuation
no resolve
only wonder

Published by bernardsbarnes

Writer. Artist. Performer. A little boy dreaming of the stars.

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