A room walled-in by books where the hours withdraw. <br /> <br /> <br />At the foot of an unmade bed a bird of paradise. <br /> <br /> <br />Motel carpet melted where an iron had been. <br /> <br /> <br />His attention anchored to a late night glory hole. <br /> <br /> <br />Of janitorial carts no heaviness like theirs. <br /> <br /> <br />Desire seen cavorting with the yes inside the no. <br /> <br /> <br />A soul kiss swimming solo in an open wound. <br /> <br /> <br />The self as church where the whores now gather in.<br /><br />Timothy Liu<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/hard-evidence/
