Petulant Prerogative

It must be delightfully easy to recall using selective memory, finger food for thought. Your version shining brightest eventhough it’s the most tarnished.

It must be reassuringly pleasant to float your way above a barely acknowledged destruction, one you can revisit when the pantry is empty again, handle with gloves, take off like a shirt reserved for fancy affairs only.

It must feel like a refreshing breeze to have an understanding whereby parties involved do what they want, when they want, how they want, paying up using practiced silence, punctuated by shrugging.

But it must also be really quite lonely, shallow, wet enough to gather silt in rotten and diseased feet.