In the vastness of my space
I write messages in the bathroom mirror
I adress them to myself
Hoping the next day
There will be something
To comfort me
in the warm mist,in the breath
but the next day there is no message for me
like my finger never touched the mirror
I strech my mind
in my houses square metres
living room,kitchen,bedroom
searching the least lonely one
I sit at the couch
thinking of people who could sit there
but the hot tea in my mug
Cant warm  my heart
as it exits my eyes transformed in tears

If the rain could weave your touch into mine,
I'd let it drench me, time after time.
Perhaps in a place where clocks don't turn,
You’d find me waiting, a love unlearned.

You know when you need a ****
But just cannot release?
Cos self containment
Is something
That will not desist
Then don't think of your bladder
Think of the abyss
Then there will no need
To move your
Photons
To this.

Is it an itch
Or an urge?
A ballad
Or
A dirge?
Or a chance
For you
To purge
Your bowels?

Cracked SOLES extorted
because third worlds must cry
YOURS are rubberized