London Poem: Day 344

27 July

Intersecting lines confuse order
And understanding.
Even words meshed in some
Strange culmination of action
And idea, pushing the was
And the need-to-be into a warm
Embrace, flittering hungrily,
Like two little doves who
Love blankly, without knowing or
Understanding, and carry on until
All time stops, and the world
Ceases to spin.

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Published by

keelancrampsey

In flux

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