Confusion in my heart, my mind
who is this boy calling on my door?
claiming to know me
--to love me
whispering words sweet as honey
nectar from flowers
but is this real?
or is it a delusion he worships
an idol made with clay
shaped by his hands
taking my fist
--I crush it
into a thousand shards
each one pretty, each on a reflection
of what might have been
E.
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