Focus
Focus me to the horizon
Let the clouds slip into my nostrils
Let me inhale the deep pools of carbon life
I start to loll
As I forget what watches are
The strange figure in the dark sooted suit walking on the brook
I sit in my chair in my room and imagine him
I’m traveling far distances
The mind mells with Moorish determination
I beg for focus
Tauting the mast
Copyright © Matt Caliri | Year Posted 2009
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