PORNOGRAPHICS

I now remain a prisoner
Only in your imaginary confines
Timid, taut and nubile
In the pornographics of your mind

A wanderer made of cosmic star
On the outside, I am free
Same eyes, same scars
Just finally moving; non-stationary

I'm in between the sure blackness
And the definite of dear white
Here lies a colour I do not know
In shade of the undefined

The staple has been unclasped
My poetries fly across the air
You may now want to catch a few
But nothing remains anywhere

-K.G.