No walking on the grass
no batheing in the sun
no kites no dogs no ball games
no daring to have fun

No pictures no video
no painting rural scenes
No kissing and no cuddling
no toddlers and no teens

No picnics no ice cream
no drinks and no smokes
no reading and no learning
no adults or old folks

No music no dancing
no poets or mime
no playwrites or theatre
no honest use of time

No entry no exit
no trying to make light
no I am not joking
now get out of my sight.

I ran out of oil so I went to find more
this is what happened when I opened the door

A gentle transition had welcomed my feet
I was now walking to the sound of a beat
The pulse made its way to the top of my head
readied my body as if stringing a thread
Stitched up together with hands at my side
the air I inhaled procreated my guide
Infancy spread throughout my whole being
and with eyes circumcised I began seeing 
Aged just enough by the end of each day
to comprehend that which no one could say 
Treading along as the hours threw clocks
it was time in the form of stumbling blocks  
Wearied I'd grow and I'd take up my rest 
on things to which only my soul could attest 
The process by which my flesh was restored
and freed of the ghosts that my temple would hoard 
Then finally lightness had sprung in my step  
and I returned home, to that one I had left 

What I'd forgotten was now all I  knew 
the oil I'd needed adorned my own room

I lie to you

you lie to me

within moments of  silence
Borne of gentle spooning.

I am the ****** page
patiently awaiting
your words...


to touch me.