around the side,
out of view, normally.
I see it,
sense it…
the warmth is dizzying,
the light blinding.
It’s hard
to put your finger
upon it.
The walls,
and everyday noises
its… perfectness.
But when
the obscuring breaks,
and the hurt
forgets itself
for a moment.
There is a MOUNTAIN
sized part of your soul
which I wonder at
and fall
desperately in love with
over and over, again.

Paul Tristram is a widely published Welsh writer who deals in the Lowlife, Outsider, and Outlaw genres.  He wrote his first poem as a teenager following his release from the (Infamous) Borstal ‘HMP Portland’, and he has been creating Literary Terrorism ever since. Read other articles by Paul, or visit Paul's website.