tale to tale

And in my head,
Like a spirit I travel –
Often to distant rooms
That I’ll never quite know.
I’d give myself
A blank cheque,
To know the world
And taste its delights.

But in my self,
I’m stopped at the border,
Made to spectate Eden
Through a cracked screen.
I search my pockets,
And find an orchestra of copper –
I’ll know the world
Through a feed instead.