Obscurity

I.

The room (or memory) is a blaring white

of a fly trap, a blinding illumination

of buzzing that attracts my mind only

to zap any feeling into non-existence.

The horse blinders kept me looking

down and forward, the food-splattered

ground moving beneath my feet like

a conveyor belt; my mind pressing stop

and play as programmed.

 

II.

White pinstripes led my eyes like tiny roads,

the pattern of pantsuits covered

in powder, elongated and straight,

now somehow abstract. I had never seen

black look so bright; an ebony torch in

the burning eradication of visual senses. I,

non-invisible for a brief moment, became

a dimple in your cheek.  

 

III.

The speckled granite shined sloppily,

oiled by our beers and the gloss in our

eyes, sliding off the blinders that shielded

me from the abrasive lights. Finding myself

suddenly close to you, my physicality

growing apparent as I felt myself assuming

form, and as you spoke to me, existence

pounced onto me like a cat on a toy mouse.

 

IV.

Visibly invisible, my molecules faded

in the morning mist of a winter storm,

my shutters hanging by a hinge and

creaking in the wind. I, a condemned

house, soiled and rotting in a vacant

lot. You walked past me on your way

to school and wondered who used to

live there.

 

V.

Spring came, then summer, and

the bees came back to where the

Magnolias grow like big pouting

eyes. The dandelions cushioned my

sleepy head as I daydreamed

of the thousand wishes you had,

or may have had, as you kissed

them into the wind that sent them

into the clouds.

 

VI.

They flicked on the light

again, and in it’s searing white glow

I saw ebony flames, a hazy silhouette

I ached to see through blinders. You said

                                                    Something.

                                Something

to me.

              Something

foreign; familiar. But the letters jibber

and jumble and all I can remember is the

cackling crackle of flames and the smell

of ash.

 

VII.

I wandered on stage, the spotlight

melting my skin, exposing the raw

soft flesh of organs, then bones, and

I became a dancing skeleton with a

perpetual smile; the dogs came for

me, tore me to splinters and sucked

the marrow dry. I became the ghost

that haunted my dreams. They swept

me into a dustpan and turned off the

light,  

 

and it was then,

                           that I found you

 

waiting for me in the darkness.

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