i don't always draw my hands
perhaps i should
as it puts me into a
state of mind
i don't know what treasures
ill find
the long corridor
so far away
calls me and somewhere
i see where we call
to each other
loudly
in the vacuum of space
our desires symbolize
life's simple pleasures
in front of our
wide open
primate eye
knocking about the universe
like a run-away bride
we cackle at the keeper
and haunt him
in his hard boots
shut out any darkness
that might let any care
or hold stronger than
the course of our
distant memories
fucking chancers
on a lump of wet rock
dodging comets
burning
bleeding
cackling
copyright cosmic 2009
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