top of page
Brief Entanglements
Tell me Confabulo
these rooms
these furnitures
of passions and perversions
the moments we entered,
passageways
where we lingered
blindfolded
arms raised in sleepwalk
bumping and groping
against each other
Confabulo
I found in these entanglements
such comfort
tell me now
When the latch clicks shut
where may we meet again?
© Johnmichael Simon
2008
.
bottom of page