I’m feeling a lot like Ezzie today. A little lonely, and preoccupied by bare feet.
Mine are very ordinary. Well, maybe … okay, they are average size … medium width … just plain average. No distinguishing marks … but no problems that people my age start getting, like bunions and the like. I guess I take care of them better than some. For someone who runs as many miles as I do, I have to.
I once had a lover who was obsessed with my feet, especially, and my hands. There is nothing spectacular about them either. More average. My bum, too. He liked me in cords (and in his jeans! … and in his dress shirts in the morning.)
I think he was just blind, or in love. I wasn’t in love enough then, and it’s too late now. He’s taken. (He still loves my feet, though.)
Poetry! Aack! (Self-indulgence)
Bring him back
Looped time never
finds the right end
Love lost, lost love
Crying, blame, No shame
play the game
Take me home
to the asylum.