I am your

one note song.

I am ugly,

but devoted.

Like a mole,

I try very hard to dig deep

Into the darkest recesses of your heart.

One day, I will plant a seed there,

Kick up my hind legs and drown it in mud.

A time will come

When you will wake up on a Sunday,

wander to the kitchen,

stand there a minute, blinking and thinking of eggs.

Crisp toast and runny yellow.

You will look out at the bright blue

and suddenly feel a sharp twist

in the centre of your gut.

It is not, as you would be prone to believe-


It is a funnyfeeling.

It belongs to the witchery inside your head.

A word will bubble through to the surface.

Clear, and plain.

Like Calibri.

And you’ll think,



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