Visio infectum
I have scratches in the
mind,
My
mind.
Pages
blot.
Forms, shapes, impaired in
letters;
Halted
interactions
Mimic on a shining
surface.
Glassy waters, dressed as
mirror-pieces
Screech in lines; black,
In blocks of
silence,
I was drawing in the
world,
My
world.
Withdrawn, yet
reborn;
Willingness, its
helplessness
Despite
aphorisms,
In the juicy-leafy semiotics
of life
Somewhere in between the mind and the world, life wills for a
space
No comments:
Post a Comment