What form does perfection wander in, what ruse does it use to evade me? Perfection comes to me boastfully in many forms, Friend and Foe, Lover and Child, Leader and Companion. What guise does it use to deceive me, for it does make claims of Gracing it's self upon the being of many in my life, and yet I am looking as if ones sense of self depends on it, for this perfection In these claimants, and as of yet can not see it for myself. I would so like to think that perfection does not house it's self on my person, for I would not want to entertain that visitor for long, it begs too much attention, and requires Too much support, I could not give my time in that fashion. I would project my energies into learning something new, rather than professing I Need not acquire assistance in any knowledge, for then there is nothing left to ascertain, There for would I not be quite busy, keeping my guest... Perfection, happy for all my days?