On a circular bed.

I spent my afternoon.
      Passed in a lovers gloom.

       I embraced

No new thoughts,
My memories leave no room

For new thoughts to be born
to the roof of my head
& its your name they call.

Fighting with my ambitions
That are already dead

I drowned in the white covers
Of a circular bed.

There was coffee and a slice of bread.

I felt human enough in my head.

The rhyme can go on
But that would be of no use

I have already said
What needed
to be expressed.

Posted from WordPress for Android


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