a room and two people i am one of them you are the other
there is a difference in the air
i am older and not quite the same
you have somehow remained constant and mathematical
a crumb of tender thought falls from your lips to your lap
the modern lives we lead have powdered your tenderness
the modern lives we lead have dessicated our joy
we need moisture.
the full stop means that is the end of the poem. the word poem and porn are dangerously close together on a modern plastic keyboard. that is not a clever insinuation. how can i describe in words the patterns of colour in my mind?
red and blue and grrrrrrrrrrreen
i am lying on my bed and looking straight up into heaven. you should see it. i looks like candy floss. you have come over to talk about things. i don't want to talk about things i just want to look straight up into heaven through the clouds and into all of the people that have died.
you tap me on the head with the small hammer of a judge and suddenly everything seems opaque and not real.