Frankenstein dropped a single tear on the day he left his creation on my doorstep. I did not have a chance to catch him as he walked around the dim corner. I always regret not doing so. I would have caught his tear and invited him in for a glass of merlot. Through the sitting room curtains as far as his eye could see. The near future would have eased his extraordinary mind. His creation was just like me.
I would never reject him.
In our cloistered world
the outside would remain so
inside pyramids are built out of our gentle conversations
under the canopy of dusk, sky gardens are tended
our voices dance from passage to passage
reading the books that never collect dust
love resides in four walls and a small garden
Let’s not consider the ending future.