Passing Clouds

Love it.

Kill your darlings

The clouds are sitting

On my chest.

They’re surprisingly heavy

For vapour.

Each breath comes

With the clinging of

Mist and

Coolness of self pity.

But I shake that off.

My throat is toxic

And my voice

Infects others with

The venom

I keep in my mouth.

It’s brewed from

My mind and runs through

My veins

Fuelled by honesty.

Lust is at the heart

Of all our

Decisions but we claim

It’s love to make

Ourselves feel better.

We don’t love.

We want.

And we share a mutual want

Till someone wants something else.

I see it

Through the brand new

Eyeballs I purchased

Which were on offer.

They are the latest in

Sight seeing technology

And marketing


They show me what is to come.

The rain falls

From my new eyes

And I don’t even try

To think of

Inventive metaphors

Because you

All say the same…

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