If I were to say from whom I go into my authentic inner life with which at some obscure point of my being, it has been paralyzing… the reason is I don’t know who I should be….

I don’t know who I am and what ripening state of art within me

If I were to see behind those facades of what the mirroring eyes of scar-tissue of anonymous existence, I can’t define the untold cliché of the void of anonymity

I don’t know what I am and what intelligible shadow within me
If I were to hear the breathless sound of nameless disclosure that beats the theory of untroubled poignancy, nothing is around me yet, I can’t accustom and absorb my destiny

I don’t know where I should be… in a wide- open impersonal beginning or a closed-in camouflage…
I am coming out in gasps deeply

If I were to read the unwritten monograph of multiplicity, what is better… maddening duplicity or surmountable individuality? …. There never has been something in me…

I don’t know how I should act… I should be phoney or genuine… what shadow lies upon me?

I don’t know when I should listen to the authentic life… mirroring eyes…. nameless disclosure…
unwritten monograph…

The very formidable Virginie Woman is a riot in my mind
A subtle yet unmistakable provoker… and she’s one of a kind
She has something between her ears
Better off than Christina Aguilera and Britney Spears
She emulates admiration as she chills into my bones
I scream my head of and blame my raging hormones
I am somewhere between a fool and wise
Because of her, I have whistling lips and winking eyes

Am I afraid to be what I secretly envy?
To be a certified female counterpart fully?
I’m tired of being tired as a girl
I’m fashioned from oyster to a pearl
Pre-menstrual syndrome and double standard drag me down
I will be in the Hall of Shame for I wish to be Miss Handsome
Because of my beloved Virginie Woman?

Thinking about her, I am very happy
She’s pretty, intelligent, talented and great
Did I mention she is so great?
That’s why I love her!
I proclaim it one too many times
She’s a chick with an edge and substance

I can’t help but fall in love with her more
Why I love her?
Is that what I see in her?
Or what I think I see in her?
Am I really in love with Virginie Woman?
Being ambivalent as a womanly-man?


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