Tuesday, 18 August 2009

To Achieve Momentum in the Manner of an Object Without Propulsion

The gift is what keeps us moving
I once knew what that meant.
Now, in my single room, I adjust
When I think that it suits me.
The future has lost its appeal.

A journey. Soft and close but not.
Only the road could understand.
Only a metaphor.

My eyes turn outward
It is hard to turn in
We listen so readily
We forget our own skin.

1 comment:

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