What a puzzle
to suss out –
a thousand targets,
vague in their multitude,
that swarm around you
like termites as you probe
the carefully constructed
pillars and tunnels,
my secrets which suggested
themselves to you.
Stir up the answers, sure –
but to catch even one
would be a feat
beyond your evolution.
A corpus of confusion
may disclose itself,
expelled like soggy ectoplasm.
Put your arms around me.
Our fingers will not lace,
but together we can contemplate
the nonplussed facets
of my psychiatry.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment