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Brooding Over the Kitchen Sink: Fandom-Inspired Poetry

Chapter Text

Character Flaw


With each and every minute I am with you

I can feel perfect leaching from my fingers

And I can’t tell you what a relief it is

to lose the golden ichor that bound me

to my father whom I regarded as a god.


Even now a slender thread of gold remains

wrapped around the fragile pinky finger,

but it does not try to choke me anymore

with nervous anxiety and the rasp of asthma.


There is no better thing to have happened to me

than to have dubiously fallen into your debt

and detached the cord that hung me from the sky,

the lifeline that enforced my independence.


Thanks to you, I smell of fish and cod oil

and the rushing river below and not

silk, paper, ink, and musty aging plastic

or that sour red vinegar slash mark, 100%.


I’m sorry my apology fell a little flat.

I am still getting used to the odd idea

that other people don’t think perfection

is the curse of strict adherence to destiny,


a set of rules, lines and demarcations

that left my personality flailing in vacuum

unable to explore the possibilities

that always included what would be wrong.


I am learning to be human again, to mistake

on purpose or by accident and forget

to watch my every step. I will not be nothing,

though you will think my dire earnestness

to reconstruct my self is misdirected folly.

To you, my self will have been there all along.


Even I can see the paradox, the contradiction,

in wishing to be worthy of a woman from Venus

by discarding all my trappings of immortality—

if that is the very flaw in my character, so be it.