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Metropolitan Line poetry

Mostly composed on the 07:33 to Finchley Road, then hastily typed up at work. Apart from the ones written surreptitiously in boring meetings or on the way home.

Monday, 25 January 2010

Enough

You (and I
can safely call you that)
are whole
and that's enough.

Not a hole
into which
I can screw
my preconceptions;

nor a screen
onto which
I project
my views;

not a mannequin,
a lifeless body
you can
carve or starve.

Entire and whole, in the
present, past and future:
loved, loving, lovely
- that's enough.

Posted by NoName at 11:59

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