The Image of Enlightenment

[This is not a true story, nor is it based on true events, nor is anything about it in any way true. – Owen]

The image of englightenment:
That’s what I aim to be –
My only problem is myself,
My lack of probity.

I met a girl down by the way
Who said she’d do me well
If I would buy her needed things,
And that she’d never tell –

And she assured me I would like
The things that she could trade;
And so, down at the Comfort Inn
Our first bargain was made.

She turned to silk and liquid;
She knew countless different ways
To touch a nerve alive, and watch it
Spark into a blaze

And when I touched her, everything
Just seemed to set her free;
As though my hands connected to
Her sense of ecstasy

The hours of the night went on
And soon, there came the day;
I knew it was my time to go
And time for me to pay

She told me what she needed, and
Where I could get it, too;
I shopped and then I dropped them off,
I left her around two

I wasn’t sure what I had done
Or just what all that meant;
I only knew I’d lost the image
Of englightenment

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