Saturday 22 February 2020

An antidote or anecdote



The many selves assemble in a dark room,

Lining up to be tested,

Testing a voice,

A feeling,

An utterance. 



The many miracles of birth point fingers at him, her or somewhere, and bleat their fascinated insensitivity,

Feigning sincerely yours, 

Gaining kudos through association,

Yet still, they are no one. 

Lining up to be anonymously yours, t

Testing a silence,



I bring you lucidity.