the 22nd floor of a glass tower
just glass, marble
the air of tension & power
harsh, cold, curt intercom scratched voices
staccato syllables
false politeness with a spirit of fear & suspicion
a blind behind glass opens to a faceless face & mute reflections
at least the elevators sing
whistling a mating call as they pass each other
let the glass and marble mate
speedily the breath of up and down
as humans degrade each other to the baseline
slide all documents to the end ...
- See: personal
:: note :: ... written in an consulant waiting for a visa application ...
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