The present now is Not for me

The man who showers

Before bathing in my body is not for me

The man exhausted by running in my labyrinths

Is not for me

The man who preens Glazing his nails

Before he scarifies those around me and ignores my hunger

Is not for me

These glazed walls Is not for me

The house heavily armed with normality and familiarity

Is not for me

The house that defines my incarceration

Is not for me

The beautified mare With her bridles and saddles

Is not for me

Mine is the vast deserts

Mine is the shine of dawn

Mine is the youth of the liberated mare

Mine is a labyrinth of reindeer

All glitter is mine and

Mine is the macrocosm