How many of you are there in your sleep?
Conditional love is so much hazier than speech.
If I were your forenoon would you touch my forearm?
Composition books stacked in a corner press speech.
Are you unshaven yet despite your craving furniture?
I’m thinking the room is full of dampness.
The only pessimist is an optimist on morphine.
Share and shore alike, the water falls on trinketry.
Weeding mayhem for forecast in the ink of time.
Table time when you can lift above the table.
You lie upon the table. You lie about the table.
Table your interjections for the moment.
If you think that’s funny, just listen
to the chokehold of conditional love.
.
Sheila E Murphy
.