In the Room inside a Way of Feeling

Harsh December sunlight carpets this bare studio

Where two midcentury rocking chairs

Writhe and bear the fruit of sacred mysteries

As garishly out of place as the gilded samovar

Chuckling on a low coffee table and steamily

Ogling walls of an indifferent blue somehow

Stolen from your eyes and there atop an empty

Bookcase is a naked Egyptian cat surveiling me

With impassioned impartiality me trapped in this

Room of actuality this room of how sweet to be

Anywhere in sunlight! this room of a desperado 
Sense of nightness O room of one plus one equals

Jupiter and the moon and you see in the flashes

Of the captive these bright feelings that are facts