My Tabard



Just Twilights and dusks cutting through the perennial night.

My Tabard is empty.

People all around: Laughing, crying, whining..

Swapping promiscuous encounters, tales of regret, singing swan songs stepping over bones in the dust…

My Tabard is empty.

The window complains… Leaning out I see the serpentine road in the moonlight – mocking, jeering

2 in the place of 29.

figure of eight – reef – hitch – figure of eight… Hurry


  1. I suppose I am more of a fool’s rhyme kind of person πŸ™‚ Pretty much dense when it comes to abstract writing 😦

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