All the Dark Corners

The cold stone
Is round and smooth, polished
Sitting quietly
In a squalid corner.
I would not remove  it.

I leap to it
From  time to time
To  stand and look
But 1 won't touch, would
Never touch

For were  I to
Lift up one curved smooth
Side, I find you
Sitting looking up, grinning.

You  are there.
That  is where you live.
You  may  never leave.
I may have  to
Carry you  around in my head
Unnumbered   days.

Such  dread
Such  dread lives
In all the dark corners.
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