the chair

a chair in a room

the chair in the room. that chair is grey and silver and loved by me. that chair carries me to places while i am still, places silent and mostly abstract. the colors that flow forth are those that care most. in my chair i am free to be imprisoned, free to close off the world. my chair loves me. my chair causes. she sits alone without me. and i without her. i go away and my chair weeps, she weeps of course for me. a light shines indirectly upon my chair and i envy those particles that sprinkle themselves all along her. she is mine. she is owned. i am polite to her while she stands indifferent. there is a table next to my chair round in shape. this table is not ordinary nor extraordinary, this table is a table. i left a jacket hanging on my chair and she wears it well. she wears it like it was made just for her. does my chair love my jacket more than me? goddamn, that jacket probably keeps her warm. while i only warm her while im seated upon her, this f*****g jacket keeps her at room all day long. I should remove my jacket from MY chair. the carpet though the carpet sits below her feet. that carpet grounds my chair. that goddamn carpet sits below her all day and gazes upon her beauty at his leasure. shall i destroy my comfy brown carpet? he brings me comfort too, that carpet. i have become too attached to my chair, i think. shes just a chair after all, just MY chair.