It’s a funny thing.
But no laughter.
Oh to be alone!
But oh, to be alone.
No thoughts but my own,
No distractions but my own – forced distractions.
Left to the banality of whether to drink the cup from the left or Whether to have it now,
Or maybe later, yes, that would be better…
You hear the sounds that are lost in busy houses full of life and People talking arguing romancing,
Ruminating aloud and to each other across the table
My table I keep untidy – to show that someone is here.
I am here and the table shows it.
And the thought soaks against the still wall falls back into my throat and around the brain again
(c) S Dyer 2011