There are worms in the cherries,
and too many beers in the fridge.

The man that I strive to be smirks at these
inconveniences. (He wears tasteful shoes.
Drinks good gin. He's quite attractive.
Quite graceful.)

Venus settles herself next to my heart,
warming her wind-bitten hands on the coals.
I want to bake her cookies but my foodstamps
haven't come in the mail yet.

Left alone, I am pure. Motivated and simple.
In the company of those less spiritually invigorated
I am lost. Feeling my way through darkness
brought upon by a blinding clarity of Self.

A panther slinks through my subconscious;
she is familiar, and very welcome. Lithe and soft
she wraps her tail around my waist.

She wants the best for me.