poetry

games we play

I play my life

with – a little girl.

her moans are whispers

of unconsciousness

I can hear her song

in me

rupture and giggle

 

she loves the swing

she listens to us

Aged archetypal

we state our case

she demands the

Difference

 

with hearts that

hold her Secrets

 

there is no dessert.

 

 

 

PhilosopherPoet

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