Being Silently Drawn by a Stronger Pull

Always a series of complications, life is what

it is, some are more skilled translators


transmitting the frequencies of what that means. Some are just


illiterate, because they were tricked into believing lies

dressed up by lies.  Truth just dances in the shadows,


in those fissures of peripheral vision.


Mein lieblings schattentanzer.  A strong line slowly

lowers the toned and taught muscles of the female


form of a cat burglar from the ceiling. She’s harnessed by her


waist, making that sculpted body fold backward in a teardrop

shaped back-bend.  Grabbing her ankles, she lifts her eyes


to engage the view of her sparkling prize between her

knees slightly bent and splayed open.  We constantly


abstract the things we see with language—telling


roses to behave a certain way, or forgetting that

some things cannot translate—which at best fails


us every time.  Give it up cause you


don’t understand the mechanics of expressing

any truth but your own, unless you become


a skilled thief of beautiful things.



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