ROOM WITH A CORNER

There is a room with a corner, with clouds that slide up walls that meander on ceilings, that rain nowhere and everywhere. There is a room with corners so oblique, so opaque, corners of jumbled vocabulary that seethe with mis-spellings and unknown punctuation. There is a room set for table and chairs, locked in a teatime revelry. There is a room set with downturned bed and seething, angry pillows. There is a room that isn't a room, and then there is a room that...is. There is a room that knows who you are, that plays with your fucked up mind that curdles your hands, and fractures your eyes. There is a room that is locked tight as a safe, locked tight as a heart, tight enough to suffocate at birth...or at death; a room without a divide, without a wall to slide along, that knows no bounds because it is bound. There is a room without a corner, oblique in tragedy, collapsed in humility, in humiliation. There is a room with a corner...