Jar Meditation

I strip the jars of shelf-destruction
Of their labels:
Bare they stand in line, awaiting
In full silence,
Prepared for whatever fate
Is awaiting them.

I paint the colours on your forehead
To add more
Of that which is already there,
Not for change,
While you protest against the shades,
Not the principle.

Whatever principle lies beyond
The very curtain:
After all the jars have been stripped
Of artificial flavour,
You will be everything left for me
To still desire.

[Note: No, ‘shelf-destruction’ is not a typographical error.]


3 thoughts on “Jar Meditation

    • I cannot, not yet, at least. I tried playing Grim Dawn yesterday, but could not focus on it at all. I cannot focus on anything these days, it would seem. Writing a poem takes a couple of minutes, commenting other works takes a couple of minutes, but that is all I can do for now. I cannot even concentrate on playing music, my thoughts just trail off into obscurity.

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