Soul Mate

In these mortgaged rooms
I hang my photographs;
the ends of journeys taken
to be out of here.

I rifle books, films, music
from my sofa,
e-communicate from my computer
and my phone.
My photos and my feet in harmony
tell my appetite it’s time
for smoke and beer.

When I come back home
I want an arm around me,
embraces brushing
terra firma from my shoulders.

Please apply,
and if we’re happy in the morning
I promise that we’ll take
each other’s photos
and be out of here.

Copyright John Webber 2010

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