Just knowing whether to stay
or as the saying goes remain
intestate and too easily unclothed
makes a mockery of me; better
abed than flying boundaries of
fake reality. Were you a weird
view at liberty we’d find consensus
more and contention less –
a lent-to-chance excess
of palatable urban legend.
But Truth is where we dine; our food
has ways of defining who we are – so
you are me and I you in this bed of roses.
Living in a garden of Eden means we’ll
never need enlightenment, who could
we be other than ourselves having
steadfastly eaten from the wealth
of each other’s finest features.
©5 September 2010, I. D. Carswell