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
