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every now and then I find myself there.
almost by chance...
occupying those places...
those places reflected in from the outside;
the nameless, argon places
forever running through the back of my mind
like disconnected moments,
that have strayed from the custody
of continuation...
within the edifice of the inner self
I move amid a morning sequestered from time,
breathing a daylight laced with static electricity.
and as I venture through this maze
of non-space,
I discover many passages
with doors and windows
lining the walls,
leading on to other districts,
unfolding deeper
into the shafts of my intuition.
traces of remembrance
crease the surfaces;
stretched by inert cables,
censored by pools of glass.
from the singularity of a deserted courtyard,
poised just below
the threshold of awareness,
I observe an array of parapets
encircling my thoughts.
I wonder what echelon of my attention
summoned these ramparts into place?
which scarred façades do they represent?
and why have I chosen these particular bricks
to base the deepest quadrate of my sanctity?
though even here
at the bottom of the stairs
in the room where no one else can go,
I sense the presence of another
descending in close unison with me.
a presence that remains just beyond
my peripheral vision,
inhabiting my shadow.
I can feel its gaze pursuing me.
its invisible iris caressing my flesh,
cutting through the aisles of ozone
that circumvent my senses
like vipers.
yet if I were to take apart the air
piece by piece
and examine the emptiness
between myself and those eyes,
would I encounter the ghost
that haunts these pictures?
might I uncover its asylum
smoothed away beneath the subliminal envelop
of my self-awareness?
and should its illusive hands not award me the key
it so cleverly conceals
amid its mica-silver veils?
the key that will open that door
over there
on the far wall
so that I might release the claustrophobic stars...
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