Just Me
I'm left to an island
With no other inhabitant.
While solitude is complete
And the only combatant.
The cost paid is quiet,
Though its volume is loud.
Where freedom is infinite,
Well away from the crowd.
With no dispute to remedy,
Only calm remains.
As it caresses and fondles,
Any sensation to sustain.
Being left to imaginings,
The selection is vast.
Though no place is safe,
From that diverse past.
If choice has no boundary
Among all the fantasy . . .
Then preference finds a companion,
In the ultimate hypocrisy.
Copyright © Timothy Mattson | Year Posted 2021
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