In the flexi-verse l am a scientist. A lawyer. A policewoman. A murderer. A artist. A wastrel. A malingerer. A politician. A dancer. A healer. A brothel keeper. A serial killer.
Which one am l now?
A Netflix binge Her.
When l dream we touch. Blend a bit. Swirl. Live for a bit in each other’s worlds and then as if giant magnets polarized us. We disperse back to our realms.
That will do for now. Only in sleep can these things be discussed.
Last night l was thewastrel. It was good. I was happy down sizing my big soft bed for a little thin mattress to go on my tiny self. I was dirty but felt clean. Picking up cans instead of healing auras.
I agree with John commnents, Aleaxandra, a very succinct way to describe the predicament of ‘out’ of a love, but still ‘in it’!
Thank you. I wrote this to a man I really loved. I still do – very much so. We meet for coffee every Sunday and we are friends now – nothing more. Thank you
I love that which takes me out and away from my train of thought into deep reflection of an eloquent stark work it is poetry emotion and really enjoyable
I am not really a poet but l do love to write little things. Thank you by the way. I have been following your poetry for years. Love it.
Only in sleep can these things be discussed – very nice.
Also love: I was happy down sizing my big soft bed for a little thin mattress to go on my tiny self.