wondering perfection

It has been awhile but I penned this last Friday. With a few adjustments of course.

 

the beauty of perfection, if there ever was and is such a thing,
introspectively,
feels like death,
prolonged.

but looks and is shaped like, pure gold,
externally.

the inner will lead, the process of tilling,
of refining,
redefining,
deconstructing,
reconstructing,
the outer,
into wonder.

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