masculinity, poetry, stoicism, women

Other Rooms, Other Times

Some things

Are taken to other rooms

At other times

Like tea ceremonies

Relief like peeling the skin

Of an orange with your thumbs

An anguished strain

Taken to other rooms

Because no one sees tears

And thinks better of them

Outside, everyone

Pukes up their slightest feelings

Invites you to look

At the intestinal mandala on the pavement

Proclaims it a sign of sensitivity

Virtue as they slap palms

Against the smooth surface

Of the tower they climb

But I renounced

My worship

Of furtive Gods,

You cannot lose

A game you do not

Play

And as the victims form a tower

I go to other rooms

Shed a tear for what might have been

What was lost

In the fire

I

Started

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2 thoughts on “Other Rooms, Other Times

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