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Tuesday, 17 June 2014

tempus et locus ineffable




it isn't that
I want to escape

or long for somewhere else
unhealthy obsession

or that I think there is
somewhere else to go

milk honey maidens
fountains and the like

aptly named temporality
puts paid to that nonsense

but that having been said
thoughts unravel into dreams

populated by images
unlikely conversations

it's after that I imagine paradise
no more than leaves rustling

or waving
dancing maybe

I daresay fluttering
in the breeze