Floating through the house
all curtains open
lit up against the night
let the people see what you want them to
Curating the moments, so carefully
trucks pass
lost walkers returning from the fields
catch glimpses
see slivers
of the character you created
A sensual, lost, bright mind
the answer, the home
to any lost soul…
Close-up on your pale face
painted, pained, so perfectly
the precise nature of your openness
a second thought and then it’s revised
a second thought
and something not quite right; vanishes
you vanished it
The scene is so moodily affected
controlled and filtered
so accurately gloomy
in brooding midnight
An ambiguous painting
our eyes can’t help but dwell upon
Seeing all we want to see
seeing nothing real
A beautiful, longing, artistic mind
a destiny, a home
to any lost soul…
Do you remember
do you recall
who you were
before you were the imagined answer
before you were the suggested home
for all those lost souls…
[2014]
Thank you for reading.
The Lighthouse 