14.4.09

Last Flame for Mary


I twitch,

I sparkle and smile
and, before I know it,
I'm encrusted in diamonds,
I am covered in jewels and
bathed in the finest of gold.

I am so beautiful.

I am so precious.

I am melancholy trenches
for I am meadows of idyll;
I'm baroque, furthermore I'm
anachronistic in a neo-post-modernistic
sense.

Babylon burn inside me;

That's how I hear it.

I longed to be free.
Illusion. Too an illusion;
I feared conscription
Way in childhood, when
Lilliputians strung giants
and mother brought gifts
on her way back from work.


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