Her Thoughts are Smoke
… slipping in fingers
through the Trees…
of her (Troubled) Mind.
Love is a ‘phantom limb’
… itching at the stump
of where it was removed.
‘What will he think
of the Stretch Marks
on my (Battered) Soul?’
The 5 Of Cups card
… appearing…
in the Past, Present
and Future Positions…
is so very EXHUSTING.
I’m Paralysed Internally
… and the word Escape
tastes Treasonous…
there are no songbirds
within these Shadows
… only Stagnation…
and (Hibernating) Waste.
© Paul Tristram 2025

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