Half A Decade

I’m a moment of quiet clarity
Of indecent integrity
A conceitful exposing light
A frail and open permissive night

I’m a window open to the floor
A bed at night with a whore
A lamp that burns butter for monks to pray
I’m a writer you’ve never read who doesn’t go away

An artist who would carry a tree to a stone
A reverent and lustful tome
An escaping rat from a docked ship
I’m all of these on this list


- Chris Mansel