Passing 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
frazzled walkers returning from the fields
catching glimpses
seeing slivers 
of the character you created

A sensual, sought, bright mind
the answer, a home
to any lost soul…

Close-up on that round 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 glooming
a brooding midnight
the 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…

(November, 2014)