the pervasiveness and the
permeation
of desire's initial presence.
It the occupancy, not of a first-time
renter.
It occupies a gathering place not for bystanders
that are passive and
pedestrian.
It is not an exiled populous of my unconscious
greeting new
possibilities of fertile residence
in a conscious stand.
It does not a burst
upon the scene of my being
nor is it a black comedy of inspiration twisting and
writhing amongst fashionable thoughts of prominent mental stature. This is not
a tourist's popular spot either.
Desire has a comfortable, house-pet familiar
presence.
It has a haunt-pervading omnipresence
that surfaces in the most
myopic of mindful ways.
Desire seems to be below the songs of hunger,
beneath
the maze of personality exploits,
and behind thoughts that stand up with tall
placards
in my well lit mind-room.
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