The words are blurry
Fixed on the page...

Piercing instances of what I well-know
Surface like oil paintings on my heart...

We are in a little sphere
Connected by a thread of paper...

I don't know
What it's like...

Where is the longing I once felt?
So strong, its illusion wrapped about me...

Never standing
Stoic doll...

We've got it all wrong:
These words aren't meant to please...

You silly Object of Fame
How come you and I are exactly the same...

Just one more kiss
A pretty...

The figure looms overhead
With its foreboding bronze...

The meaning of life is written on your chest
Yet you speak with such calculation...

The view from Arberry Meadow always sucked.
I never had the privilege of seeing faces on the...