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Rated: ASR · Poetry · Experience · #950151
You keep filling me up with your tea, but it's only water and codine.
Labyrinth

two left turns
Memories tease,
like a child playing hide-and-go-seek,
disappearing now ahead of you,
around the corner.
he snitched your Youth
wrapped in a brown paper lunch bag.
Simon says, "follow the leader."
but it's all lost behind you
somewhen the ball of string was fatter.

a right turn, a left
one wall indistinguishable from the next,
like the many pills in your regimen.
though the Cracks in the floor seem different,
and so does the quiet scent of Mothballs,
reminding you of another time,
another turn.
but do not ask yourself that question.
twine would be here
if you had been here before
and never ask the more Fatal query,
'what if the string runs out?'

a right turn or a wrong turn
up ahead, the sound of breathing
ragged and heavy,
choking on the final Baptism.
such sounds always seem so much
louder, gaining importance
because of their transience
or Isolation.
is it the Minotaur? perhaps
the terminal inhaling and exhaling alone
substantiate the legend-Worn beast.
No you can picture his form;
his eyes are Blue like yours.
the ball of twine is Red.

~Bellerophon~
© Copyright 2005 Bellerophon (bellerophon3 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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