Published in several anthologies
I pray for the will to achieve perfection,
And that is good as far as it goes.
What would I give to avoid error?
What would I pay? My soul? My love?
To attain the unstained, mar-free life?
Then I realize by offering up myself
On that strange altar I am imperfect.
Shall I take perfection if offered?
Let me think about it; let me consider
The enormity of the infinite world of the ideal
With no anxiety, no remorse, no hurt;
Without the ability to feel pain.
For when I climb a stair the quickened heart
Flushes my face and when I climb into bed
Feral forces race through my veins.
I pray, plead, beg, supplicate for perfection
But also pray, plead, beg and supplicate
To keep it far outside the dominion of self.