TO BE ANOTHER

Voice version of the poem

Slowly
I push your hugs away from me -
the warmth evaporates
into the cold mist of gloomy London,
and that’s what makes this city
so beautiful -
an expired love of forgotten craving.

It’s a factory of pleasure.

Harshly
I stop clocks
and slowly break the time in half
before it breaks
me
into a million pieces of (un)reserved
seconds for you.
They drip
and gallop at a pace of my falling tears.

That are not even real.

Seductively
I transform myself
from one bird into another,
disguising my feathers
under camouflaged colours of attraction.

I know you want to pick me up
and take me home.
Oh baby,
I’m not that domestic.

- Chatty Owl -


50 responses to “TO BE ANOTHER

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