It's funny how stories go
How plots unfold and noses grow
And how some spines are wont
To melt when the kitchen gets too hot
But I
Have stopped wasting my precious salt
On feeble dreams not worth their own
This time I'm fixin' to build out of stronger stuff
I have a plan
I'm just short on material
Capable of building something bigger
Than whitewashed fenced in mindsets and strip mall escapades
I am not willing to be
The ball
Or the chain
Around some unwilling eye rolling ankle
I am looking for paired pedestals
Not some cardboard cutout to bring home
To plastic dinners
I am on the prowl for something so real
That it will hold up
Under the beauty of blessed skies
Or the foul exhaust of concrete night
I want something
That in the grand finale
Of our happily ever after
Will cradle us
And feed our dreams
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