If I can cry, smile, reflect, accept, aspire, succumb, fly, go, and come, naked, in front of a mirror large enough to hold me at a glance — why accuse any body or any soul at any time?
That is the selfSimpleSingularMajusculeQuite a featIn the mind with the English tonguewriting it displays a highly concerted and concentrated effortIn that which I prepare to drink or eatand in how I drink or eat itIn the sounds with timing I wish to composethe words I conveyeither for poetryor conversation In the frames I freeze through… Continue reading I
What is your garden? Does it see sun? Does it grow in darkness? Are it’s fruits sweet? Juicy? Fleshy? Watery? Dense? Is your garden one to the palate? To the eye? To the yearning? To subside hunger?
...found a mirror. Confide, I thought, and I did. It’s a fragile concept. Not that glass breaks — and reflections are of denser surface than mirroring glass — but viewing the self in the flesh, not in vain for vanity but in contemplation, does awake an odd sense of seldom auto perception which conveys much… Continue reading Mirror