a profile of ourselves comes alive
inside the photograph painted poem
that can shift focus, pull out, draw in
to the blend of shade; the touch
of our breathing texture,
let all the sunlight in
to fractal into blur
sense’s emotion
fist an impression
on the still sequence
of life’s great escape
the story of a changing story
and all that we may lay waste and forget
is rolled over in scriptures’ corner of canvas.
The dangerous truth of ourselves is our art
The identity of presence stems deep
beneath the myth of the psyche.
The ultimate freedom,
our true birth
is the art
our vermillion
minds spill as dye
to flush veins
that won’t fossilize
themselves; in life
we must try
to unpack the self
of its own truth


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