Bloomsbury

I saw the
edge of the universe
that I had been seeking
since 1924
at the bottom
of an empty glass
at The London Pub
as the sirens of
Bloomsbury
wailed and
filled my ears,
my eyes connecting
with Virginia Woolf
as I wandered onto
the pavement
of Woburn Place,
but I lost her as I passed
the Tesco Express
across from
the Russell Square stop,
since she said
she’d buy the flowers herself,
as I disappeared
onto the Piccadilly Line,
and she dissolved
into the blooms
of Tavistock Square.

Original Work: Kelsey H. 3.26.17

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