That dark carpenter is building the rooms where we will spend our future lives.
Here is the next room.
It is papered with our words.
Its bed is framed with our desires.
Its mirror is smoked with our hate and our love.
We will meet suddenly in its doorway, entangled again as if never parted.
Digital Scholarship > The Cave of Hypnos: Early Poems > Karma
Copyright © 2012 by Charles W. Bailey, Jr.
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 Unported License.