Circles

I talk in circles
You walk around me
I feel within
That there is nothing here for me.


Finding the center
Dissecting this cacophony
Searching for the ensemble
Within your superficiality
		and within mine.

We walk down the dirty street
The madman remains when we return
Asks you for a cigarette
But you donít have a light.

Youíll see what youíll see
Pretty pen in a small book
My brain bleeds sanguine spill
Drifting allusions no conclusion

The pretty boys
The petty toys
Jesu Christe
Justinianís love
		kisses my feet.
Suck my toes
I remember your face, and
once upon a time we
frolicked in this place.

you were my solace
soiled the doilies
		and lace
Where are you now
		my muse?
Did you take with you
the virginity I thought
was taken by a thief?
I give up form
and with fragments
return to the gameboard.
Roll the dice.










1997 Cheyenne Sebren

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