It is a sanctuary of sense in a world where
whoever clamoured louder implied widest
reason, its as if a tactile reference at least
for perceiving what might’ve been anomie
once - but here we rest in an embrace; its
ease of total familiarity referenced against
wanting to be included - and fair trade for
becoming whole again while succeeding
Arms encase solidarity against whimsey,
life is blessed a cuddly countenance with
real guarantees you matter, there isn’t an
inordinate need to prove anything - those
limbs are smiles of greeting; why not give
one a try and see what it really means
© 28 January 2015, I. D. Carswell
No comments:
Post a Comment