Misty skies lurk between my eyes and those fertile mountain tops. A blinking red light the only movement in the night air. A gentle breeze to weak to lift hanging leaves cools my skin while candles burn before me and the pages of my mind. This pouring red ink mirrors my thoughts. The ink that has become my vent. My relief. A place where I can seemingly be free away from the chains of societies grasp. Where my wings can open and I can soar high above the worlds inside. A new perspective taking me away from the congestion and the smog. A new high.
I once looked into a mirror not realizing it was a mirror. I asked myself “who is that looking at me?” As I moved the man followed my movements and I realized that man was me. Objectively I didn't even recognize myself. It's funny how perspectives work. You can study something so long and know exactly what you are seeing but until you have the right perspective you can't truly see what you are seeing. How can you interpret what you are seeing for what it is unless you have the right state of mind? I saw a man for a moment that I didn't recognize but as soon as I attributed my attributes to his form I recognized myself. That's how I see all of life. You have to put the right attributes to what you are seeing before you can interpret and recognize what is before you. ~ How do you know a candle, until it is burning?
How do you know a tree until its leaves are turning?
How do you know a tear until your face is wet?
How do you know a smile until your face is set?
How do you know a cold until you sneeze?
How do you know a bird until you see a dove?
How do you know love?
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- olympus toys
- poetic erotica
- short story
- spoken word
- visual poetry