Fine!

Your quest for this Freedom through lucidity

will leave you alonely, eventually

please see my words don’t equal mere jealousy,

you beautiful, misguided hippie of mine.

Okay, smokay, no lies, but what if I do?

All bottled up feelings, all of them true

means to my end my dear, namely you.

Forgive this scarred shard for avoiding his clue

which is old fashioned, maybe, but hurtful enough

and domestic in essence; simply being in love.

Note: this is an updated version of the poem included in that issue. The original poem was quite terrible.