Friday, 13 November 2009

67 - Limits

Such cold, hard limits to the things we do.

You help me to so much, and then no more.

Show me fantastic things I never knew

Then massive silence, when I shut the door.

No other way that this could work for you

So well: you tuck me up inside a drawer

Marked neatly with a label, out of view -

Back in the dark, not knowing what’s in store.

But in my head my thoughts are always leaping

Out of their boxes, throwing themselves like fish

Over the rush of water, always keeping

Their eye upon the source – and I just wish

That one day you could come and swim with me,

Shake off your suit and dive into this sea.

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