Wednesday, 11 February 2015

Paddles

somedays it feels like semaphore
as if my fingers were bound together
tethered by hockey tape
or webbed like frogs
and in their swaddling
I would try to flag to you
to communicate my meanings
no, this not right
we should try another way
let's just forget it and go to sleep
and then somehow in the middle zone
you would sense it
read the space between the digits
and tuck it all in
the magic of a duvet
puffed fluffled
Quilt o'dreams




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