Careless I utter strange symbols
flowing through and into my mouth
speaking the world into position

A kind touch is enough to invoke it
heart is restless
I am only seemingly free

Roaming the extremes of the mind
uphill and battered
brothers and sisters is my light

This fearsome crocodile
and this mud and jungle
above and beyond

I should speak to all of my secrets
but hardly an ear would listen
though I speak with such subtle a voice

To decide who to be – ?
identities are broken and mended
how would I know

This graceful being – !
full of hope and misgivings
so full of herself

Dare not to seek the entrances
do not follow my lead
into something not easily understood

About Emil Hjort

Writer, poet and mysticist.
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