false interiors by A. A. Kostas the womb is the only real room, all else is false interiors drywall and paint and blotting out of the sun you were born from the inside out and you will spend this life demonstrating your will to return from the outside in we are no longer formed and breathed into, we are nestled and grown thieves of the life-force that sustains, prometheus all of us all divisions fictions false walls that bear no load, no weight this world is fallen glory which prepares you for glory still
A. A. Kostas is a Canadian-Australian poet, writer, and lawyer, currently based in Singapore, and he writes the Substack newsletter Waymarkers. His writing has been published in The Republic of Letters, Apocrypha, Inkwell, New Verse Review, The Clayjar Review, The Rialto Books Review, After Dinner Conversation, Vessels of Light, and Calla Press Journal.
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Lovely experience going through this poem. Something to place in my mental library
I don't intend to plug but I wrote a poem riddled with themes that are similar, although most probably ambiguous to the foreign mind. However, it's interesting how we tend to huddle around those who create content with the same themes depicted from most different angles. Anyway. I'll beat you to the Finnish line, understanding the place of curiosity in our lives.