vendredi, janvier 20, 2012

The hypnotist

Black and white

Her chosen colors

Declarative sentences

Sole grammar of her days

She offers lotus blossoms

Where once he craved philosophy

Carries him away on drifts of incensed smoke

As though he could purge memories

Sweep chalkboard clean

No messy corners, lines or hopes for something deeper.

In her eyes, he sees himself

Reflected, refracted

She demands nothing

Except that he remain

Loyally swaddled

In the imagined security

Of those who do not aspire

To the profound life.

He stares

Afraid, should he turn away, and circle

He will see nothing

But his own enchanted face

Look back at him.

Aucun commentaire: