Humble Hamartia

Oh, my dear, how many of your things I could condemn,
how many of your things I could live without,
how many of your things I could let go of,
and have many times before.

Oh, my dear, how little of what you give
could suffice me more than my self,
could stick within my mind,
could tether down my soul,
as ever has before.

But oh, my dear, there is one thing
that I struggle to thrive without,
that I leave still unabsolved,
and have ever before.

My dear, there is one thing
that I cannot suffice myself,
that dwells within my mind,
that is tethered to my soul,
and has always before.

My dear, there is one thing:
made of the smile you try to hide
by tucking down your chin
while the wrinkle by each eye
reveals you.
My dear, it is that look.

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