Thursday, 29 July 2021
Was it something I did? was it something I said? kaleidoscope words twisting round in my head. Each innocent word I thought was so clear, churning up waters, distorting ideas. Catching on weeds, disturbing rank silt, rustling spiked sedge root, calmness unbuilt. Mind undercurrents distort thought and word stifle each utterance - fear to be heard. Silence is golden; spoken thought, absurd.
marilyn unmasked 