invariably
i would always find
the one girl
who gave meaning to the meaningless

i'd be wrapped in her
all day
thinking about the dramatic
and romantic

dreaming about walking with her in the snow

but it never snows in Texas

the girl I was in love with
was always the wrong one

Sara was too good
my recklessness made her neurotic
her sweetness made me sick

Lily was too smart
her ego made me break
my lack of mystery drove her away

Alyssa was too cold
my passion made her feel affirmed
her faraway looks told me the truth

Melissa was too damaged
her fear stood between us
my need was not as great as she thought

they would watch me play
watch me work
say things like
"Tying your shoes is
not an act that requires intensity"

that which told lies on my behalf
hasn't been around for awhile

I wonder if I'm still hot
without my mystery
or the intensity

(which on the shelf
forgets itself)

(A NodeShell Commando Action)

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