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A choice


FORM AND DISCONTENT

Indefinite colours arise, seeking a place.
Whatever acquires a form is -
the form being at once
form
and discontent -
discontent not
no content -
the content being
the colours -
the being being
the discontent,
longing for THE form
which is the perfect fulness out of time, and all the while we shed
manifestations,
figures.
How terrifying it is
to be surrounded by
figures detached
from longing for a form.

                                                            Next poem - Lord of the Flies