Wednesday, April 22, 2020

Hi I’m Icarus, I’m falling



I won’t stay if you don’t want me to
Tuesday nights, on Tuesday night we used to have good sex

Anticipation; my empty and ample chamber
The room exists for you to fill it

If you wish to; illuminated scenes
Amid which appear, dimly first

Like dusty windows and the faces of persons
Whom you have no choice but to trust 

Impossibly far removed from you in terms of
Brilliance, cadence and poverty 

It’s left to be desired in the abstract 
Dry perspectives stay fixed

Certain possibilities best yet left
Ignored; like the failure of love

The hope of good destinations are suspended 
For now; vines pierced with sunlight

Dregs; but first please descend
Wait for your turn 

You’re almost there
I mean at the window where you can buy your ticket

If you ever escape this clamorous junction

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