Endless
The vast empty chasm,
of sameness .
Haven't I written,
before-
an ode to tea cups!
So precious, so sweet,
so exquisitely set,
but more of the same . . .
regardless of that I love it,
Forever should not be tangled,
in the arms of my tea
that gently rocks me . . .
causes me to hold tight-
swayed by the everlasting motion.
This is surely a common thing-
peace-
it is empty,
a chasm.
I nod to sleep,
in peace . . .
I so want the sunlight though!
I long, pine-
use these fine, dull,
delicately wrought languages-
and still I sit here,
gently rocking myself,
in nothing,
feeling nothing,
emanating nothing.
A slight emotion sometimes flicks,
a shadow- and I shiver,
but the peace-
the meridian princess flees,
to a pretty green chasm,
no longer what peace might be ~
It now smoothes across flames endlessly,
sweet scent of jasmine . . .
warm sun is so repetitious.
I really feel,
like I'm nowhere.
Floating in the Heavenly mist,
a pretty, plain mist,
of light-
of, it's all so lovely,
but I do long,
for a red bug,
a stinging bug to swat away (bugs, bugs- grasping!)
a poisonous snake to offer danger (sparks!) . . .
ah, my life,
is endless.
through the meadows endless.
Infinity is endless.
I shall gently be rocked to sleep.
I must conclude.
Though I do sigh,
I know it's
a sigh,
filled with endless.
Say 'endless.'
Pray tell me,
I'm-
empty.
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