Prose

I devour 800 pages in one week,
turning each one with some anticipation.
It’s easy to get absorbed by a world
that’s just different enough from mine
to stay interesting, but similar enough
to spark hope.
In this, I try to lose myself.

Each morning while I sip my coffee,
I read my horoscopes —
general statements about my day,
my love life, my career.
I do not consciously change my actions
based on their predictions,
but I read them anyway.
In these, I try to find myself.

Most days, my time is spent
searching, finding, changing, keeping
the perfect words for you to say,
for me to write, for them to read
in law, in fiction, in life.
I persuade, reveal, express.
In this, I am myself.

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08/11/2014 · 9:00 AM

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