Her mind is a strange old place,

complete with song and darkness

with beautiful stained glass windows

throwing light onto concrete,

carpet and dusty corners.

She keeps it tidy in the simplest sense

The past in boxes and the future

is kept on ice in a cool box

too large for the space it occupies,

but present debris litters most halls.

Vast, echoey statements

with painted ceilings, frescoed walls

and clutter,

strewn across concrete and carpet.

She has stitches from the hard surfaces

burns from the soft,

in her mind where vaulted fantasies

do not marry the promises, hopes and demons at her feet.


Her mind is a strange old place

bursting with beautiful blooms

and the emptiness of grey plaster.

Regardless, as flesh and blood she continues

to reach for a like-mind,

with whom she can renovate the space.


Image credit. 

6 thoughts on “Like-mind

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