Tuesday, 17 November 2015

Questions

They must be obscure,
I lose my thoughts in their letters
My footing unsure

They must be obtuse
Willing me to sink knee deep
Miring my mind

What must they ask
They know me already. They wait in the shadows.
I'm helpless

Your designs are the solution.
Your solutions are my question
Your trap interrogates, crushes, and sighs.



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