Island cats
No man is an island,
No. But where I sleep is -
sacred;
I lie as Circe on green linen,
felines sphinx pose either side of me
their breathing a control of time
allowing mine
to be cotton
while clocks and expectations
fall into the sea.
No. But where I sleep is -
sacred;
I lie as Circe on green linen,
felines sphinx pose either side of me
their breathing a control of time
allowing mine
to be cotton
while clocks and expectations
fall into the sea.
LJ Ireton 2024
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