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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