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Most Women Are Dull and Stupid

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Sleepless nights move through the darkness to their own
Uneasy music, not disharmonic and not without melody,
Yet also very unlike a lullaby. Very little could lull me
Tonight, and nothing as night turns first to dark morning
And then to the predawn chatter of birds as light rises.

Tune-deaf, the sun announces itself through the gap
In my red curtains, challenging me to rise and face
The day as it does. I sweep the blinds open. The estate
Greets me silently, still somewhere between shabby
And elegant. I wash the crust out of my eyes and shake

The water off my hands. Today is the appointed day.
I shall, I must! assume that I have not misjudged her.
Unlike all the others, surely she could, she can throw
Off this suitor and take me instead. Today, I may,
I will--finally--become one half of a complete whole.