unpersuaded permanence,
unable to change,
forever stained in
your personal ink,
unwilling to move
and unlatch itself
from your soul,
kicked into a world
of existence and being,
unrecognized blank pages
when the first person
with a pen writes
the name you carry
forward in identity,
declares you
in their perception
of one-eyed singularity,
to be the doll or beast
in their vision at that
moment of naming,
let the title stick
or find
another person or friend,
lover,
holding you by the handle,
to look at you differently,
to become someone new
without changing
a thing
about yourself.
©Eusebeia Philos 2013
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