…and I’m not sorry, not one bit.

there are the little games I play:
“Come here.” and “Go away.”
I think I wait for one to say:
“I’ll game no more, please stay.”

(the unwritten second verse):

but this is not the truth, in truth
because the game makes life divine
and so I lie, and self-deny
to make them all be mine.

4 thoughts on “…and I’m not sorry, not one bit.”

  1. I do like your words and am glad I revisited for a read. It’s much like unwrapping a nice little chocolate bar.

  2. Thank you. Art is a reflection of a soul, I suppose. I’m in there somewhere. Stained glass colors with light and shadows.

  3. P.S. You can click on some (not all) of the digital art and make them open to a large size in a separate window. If you wish to take a closer look.

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