Interior
There are eight rooms of my own here.They cause me to wander and squander time.
They upkeep me to absurdity...
Then turn around in need of favours on
An unknown rota and I will be
Done with them.
Moments are not three dimensional things are they?
It is three rooms I need stripped bare
Stripped bare.
The pleasure dome expanded.
With me magically within effortless...
Throwing pebbles out of pockets
That land on the grass with the needed soft sigh...
Resoundingly aware of how much less I need to covet a life
I want to strip naked...the final cry arrives...
Do away, do away
Fly away be gone
Give me less.
Take me to some interior
Of some other one.
Poetry by jenks
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Written on 2010-05-20 at 02:45
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