The Zoo, The Woods

The zoo
The woods
The bank upon which my primordial being feeds
Like a ship in the dark
Or the waves beneath
What I am is symbolic
Only in its reading

In existence
We are
But we are all falling
Like balloons upside down
Headed purposefully down

What we lack in emotion
We make up for in spectacle
Dreaming of nothing
We are comfortable there.

Have I dreamed this before?
Are you real?
Are you me?

We are drunk off each other
Silent, true sinfully.

[7 July 2015]

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