Acclimatization
Acclimatization is a serious matter.
I mean one cannot keep bouncing around
a kaleidoscopic chameleon-like center
can one?
Therefore I have almost absolved myself from
causing all that emotional mayhem
that a youthful spirit engages upon
not having yet acclimatized itself
to whom I was, or to what I would become.
Was it my fault that all those
‘soon to be’ lovers
bought a copy of me,
an unedited work in progress?
Most who waded in the ankle-deep shallows
of those earlier days were but rough drafts,
early editions of what they eventually turn into.
The maxim: “they know not what they do”
has to apply or we would never arrive at that stage
of namely and to wit,
that stabilized imperfection most achieve.
Though I do pity the girls
who bought that knock-off copy of me,
the women who were scammed
by a none-copyright version of myself,
but to be fair,
they also were none-acclimatized
and should have saw
the dire warning: caveat emptor.
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