A thought not arrived

A wolf howling at the door
A mouse leaning against the table legs
A body lying on the floor
A thousand faces hovering on the ceiling
In anticipation

All paint
A background for a thought

She steps in the room
Her perfume fills his lunges
My lunges
They burn
The hey fever is strong this year
He says
I say?

My mind doesn’t have the thought
Not yet
But he and I
Will keep exchanging our fortunes
Whose body is it?
The one on the floor?

Questions are not answered in after life
They just cease to exist.

Her laughter interrupts
My line of questioning
The interrogation stops
She seizes the moment
The thought tries to connect
To communicate
With the fibre of my brain.

What is left?

A wolf howling at the door
A mouse collecting our breadcrumbs
An empty floor remains
We leave!

June 13, 2017

About alaindesade

Novelist, songwriter and philosopher. Has special interest in human relations, evolution of mind, inter-cultural complications, and the concept of God.
This entry was posted in Love Poems, Philosophy of Love, Philosophy of Mind, Poetry, Psychology, Reflections and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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