Sitting in suits of pluralism, unable to steal a view,
With polished glass between them,
They will talk themselves up on cue,
To welcome the unknown, they will deal with consequence,
To break the selfsameness of time, they will play in the dark,
They close their eyes to feel the escape,
And replay their dreams in silence,
With searching hands and countered shifts,
They will split what has been given,
We take and give, push and shove to devise a way to haven.
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)