The secret of manifestation is this
The persistent transformation of vision
From the cross hatch of the seat back
To your arm through the window
To you here gleaming single minded

But only this available
The part above the table
Our earth of signs living
Just between the limits
Of acceptable contact

Absently you pull the collar
Over buttons not undone
Stimulus and last refinement
The wary self awareness of
Your experienced innocence

Time’s only tightened
Skin paper and string
The planes of your skull
Ever more frozen
Ever more lucid

Then the old perfume
Across all time
Into the present
You are here
And back again

About ubu507

memory documentation and manipulation
This entry was posted in art, From Since I Was, Poetry, Poetry and Art, Woman and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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