as a van

would you use me as a fan
to waft away boredom
with the scent of adventure
maybe you’d place me on the sink
like an air-freshener
would you ever run the risk
of hearing me yawn?
No,
but drawing upon the touch
of weak intuition
you would define me as a pensive shadow
without viaticum or blessing
and like a nail, would hang
my soul on your wardrobe

but maybe you forget
that I can leap the taut lace
and that the rope, like my fiery nunchuks,
moulds my heart, as a slate chakram
burns only in the sunlight of my steps
never in the tedium of your syllables

 

IMG-20180425-WA0007 (1)
The captain @ Victoria Park, London
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