MONOLOGUE

Sitting down
Facing the empty green and blue armchair
Made of wood
Like you,
Wooden heart,
I monologue on
I empty my fallacies
Sans fallacio
Sans toi.
The chair’s arms
Aren’t enough
To embrace
To envelop
To develop
A rapport
With me.
Sitting, thinking
I speak alone
A meaningless
Monologue.

© Copyright: Christiane Conesa-Bostock