As A Dream Of A Night Vision - Poem by Anthony Weir
Because I look from outside out
terrified to look from inside in
I seem to come to life through burglary.
Puppet deliberately tangling my strings
so as to have to cut them,
I might thus fall from
rôle not to reality but grace
belongingness beyond longing
affinity beyond sex
conviviality beyond consumingness
of fire where spiders burn
and webs transmute to puppet-strings.
Because I take and take to things
things which I make magically
and I am only questioning and doubt
looking ineluctably from outside out.
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Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You