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Apr 2012
In my schoolboy bedroom it is a completely different world
Brings me in confluence with my shadow
The meeting of two merging anticipated tributaries
Like cold blue morning and dark sprinkled night
Where my mirror has become the ritualised
Expression of my isolation of my individual consciousness
Fused as one at the edge, where all else becomes blurred
An abstraction, indefinably lost like the mixing of shadows
That cannot be deduced on any mental map
I hear my shadow beckoning me
In its uncoordinated marginality
In isolation I receive his thoughts, his considered reflections
Something has now united us through joint experience a totality
An idea a notion conceived, to abrogate the restraint on liberty
An erosion of all guilt, advancement to a notion
Of profound imagination, where invariably
Our congress will be complete there can be no latitude for digression.
Edgar Whitman Wilde
Written by
Edgar Whitman Wilde
873
   victoria
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