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Preoccupied

I am preoccupied with corridors, Sci-fi canyons with automatic doors, Leading to spaces of silence Wherein the one who bore me lies. The TV fills a visual frame, Yet the sound is never on, 24 hrs a day, mute dramas and Bulletins lip synch to nothing, Whilst, like a profane flag The graphic observation chart Hangs statically at the foot of the bed. Sometimes I follow the lines, Blue, yellow and red. Sometimes they lead to solid walls. The red one, though, umbilicus Always leads back to something of her.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2006




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