theres a slight spiritual tugging
someone is calling from
the edge of isolation
thats fine he says to himself
as every man feels it
especially in the loaded rooms
and even in chambers,
where, we are supposed to rest drunk heads,
next to breathing forms in beds,
even there.
I suppose it's a sea of souls
the old waving not drowing situation
the old half full half empty,
life what you make it,
tomorrow starts today,
situation
a mellow song tempers the mood
a touch
but its other hand
gives too much to tears
and the grown man grows stems
to use as inserts
so no saline solution is ducted
instead muscles tenses
as he was instructed to hold it in
against instinct
the ghosts of the room have fingers
like in photographs famous and pointing
right through and beyond his form
and every faithfull narcissist
naturally thinks its him
but if invisible
finds, when turns around
the sea of lonely faces.
open are all the doors of carna
his hindsight gave him the power of Janus
and that just made it worse.