To Mirren
Mirren, I'm looking at your hotel room window
From the fish eyes birds eyes view
I hope all your treasures are treasured
The things we trashed in icy fire
All that may died may present
Alternatively, were it even mine
Flowers take notes in my ribs
I'm missing the missing limb
Somehow my lungs are the first to go
It must be your second hand smoke
I'm looking at your very cool tower
Somewhere in the imparted horizon
There is a lady with flower
There is a perfume calling that
I saw your borrowed bookmark called Babel
I saw your gifted book called Babble
Take heed in your hesitation
I really wanted to love tomorrow
The things we hold dear
But I'm sick of getting lost with you
Maybe you can take your book and go
Maybe I can take your book and go
Since the smoke is a mist
Around you
July 2025
By Aran Meredith
