30 May, 2012

Landlocked


Yes, yes,

              I know.
              Every man is an 'i'land
              marooned on his own sea of
              contradictions and lies,
              swimming between
              the dilemmas of
              solitude
              and loneliness.

              Every man is
              settling into
              shape-changing
              sands,
              confused by
              the sanguine sunsets:
              "why does such passion
              not run colour?"

              But, what if
              islands could choose neighbours?
              little pieces of
              forgotten land
              bumping into one another
              as they float
              aimfully
              on the seas of time.

Ah!
              I'd choose an island as
              beautifully isolated
              as I dream to be.
              I'd choose an island with
              Bookshelves.
              Ah yes, that
              would be
              quite perfect.

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