Story Painting

If I only want to hear your story told in a hurry,

applied with a short-nap 9-inch roller, 

carelessly dipped in cheap, watery paint,

while you're on your tiptoes,

with a fully stretched extension handle;

but won't let my own be heard unless

we have time to build a scaffold

and belay ourselves, leisurely narrating

the circumstances of my saga with a tiny,

fine-tipped brush, carefully scripting

the details and circumstances,

until you understand the rich complexity

of my existence and choices,

how deeply do you think

the two of us will connect?

The assumptions that life holds a significant

distinction between I and thou,

and that all thous are the same,

create simultaneous self-absorption

and terminal dissatisfaction.

Misery doesn't always love company.

It  can just as easily busy itself, solo,

worshiping the mirror's reflection.

© 2015 Todd Jenkins