Without eagerness I reach in and withdraw, as usual empty-handed
Fearful reflections on surfaces shout me down,
intent quickly dismantled and the grass is cleaner on all other sides;
no signs, no signifiers for affection of my own,
an empty cypher only even , on good days, a shadow falsehooded
struggling to block light most of the time.

Walking too easily through dissolving doors politely
allowing the fire to escape
knowing there’s no need to steal flames
with no womankind wanting such an offering

Pride builds a tower with many flaws
and there are no lifts
and no-one wants to live there
not even rent free

It has mirrors for windows
and is as tall as ignorance
and has all the appearance
of visceral existence
yet is only nuisance value,
one day it will come down,
it’ll be easier given the inner decay;
there’ll be a temporary bald patch
where natural irony will grow to forget.

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