ROMANCE Poem: A Room, by Imogen Kurtz

We’re not the same person
every thought in his head isn’t mine
but different
there is evil in his
depths, some evil that is not mine but so foreign to ears
and his
and is him and he varies
he’s multiple paintings in multiple moods he is a room
he has designed himself.
Like me, he is an engineer. Though
a better one
he has carved his corner now he sits, he is a baby bubbling in his own bath
he knows this
place
better than I, he watches me, trembling
carve.

Author: poetryfest

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