is it november or my body dismembered?
yes i've been depuzzled
de feathered
dis lo ca ted
how come you ask
i ask this too
de puzz led yet puzzled still
by what was once a thrill
and is now only dust
"but dust is still matter", whispered the wind
and went on to tell me
"i am a beautiful tornado, say it"
i am a beautiful tornado
i repeat
i am a beautiful tornado of everything and nothing
layers of you all and none
a thick spiral of sounds
a calm storm of what could be what was and what might have been
but this is what it is
it
not me not you not her no one dear no one
then again i realise
none of this is mine
neither am i
not even words or letters or emotions that are themselves as clear as water, as thick as mud and as deep as transparent quicksand
i shouldn't be here should i?
i'll say it now and i'll try to believe it Scarlett
"frankly my dear, i don't give a damn"
