shape shifting furniture
carouses with crisping
wallpaper, peeling away
as it  turns a shade of jade

its deafening roar of tussle
echoes in this hollowing
out of a cranial chamber

while across misty chasm
a light beams steadily, from
that gap under your door

surely disintegrating, the
now useless horse blinkers
that kept this ageing eye
on a once consuming goal*




●○
•

its the aroma that pulls you, radiating from your own hoodie.
its second hand to her.. but on her body it is absolute.

beneath the drab bar room lights, her rose lipstick still luminous.
her smile brings contentment, her chuckle brings you excitement.

yet there is still a covert intrigue to her, theres still so much to learn.
elated, melancholy, enraged, blissful, absurd, whimsical, you feel it all..

you look at her and smile bashful…put on your jacket.. and you step out into the night with a sense of wonder..

again you start to trust the process... this particular process requires trust.