Jonathan ROBIN (22 September / London)
Coincidence II Flash Point
One wonders if coincidence can claim,
to substitute itself for Fate, why pick
THAT flash point splash which lit love’s candle wick
or inflight insight felt, spelt feelings’ flame?
Are these just fantasies [h]our needs inflame?
What’s in a memory that seems to stick
to instincts, thoughts, remains through thin and thick,
alters the rules which score more mundane game,
tinting glasses to transform eye’s aim
Present, Past, the same. Here second sight can t[r]ick,
repeat, replay fey meeting: double click.
Threading maid man, man maid, from screen to frame
‘imagOnation’s’ writs two wits re[s]t[r]ain
within shared motions no emotions feign.
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