Flesh Thoughts

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Phoenix Poetry

A state which is masked by a costume

And a mind impressed by shadows, 

Though the weeping heat of mothers eyes

Is known to it, all is masked by a man who speaks less

And grumbles verses to you in a dry smile

For he spares rain from the cloud above.

I may be one, but to who’s reason is unkown 

As creation is known before the weight of a name

And the shape to guide it’s thought and passage,

The specs of soil are flesh in the hands of a flower

And it’s course is but you in eyes of darkness

For the truth is as flexible as a lie,

That outlasts and proves so.

And I pinch my skin, my skin is I, my skin is a lie

And truth in it’s sensations- who knows, to dream?

(It exists, it exists, it exists) though to who are none 

For a costume is as alive as a thought, living before it’s known

Gregarious in love, for men fall under it’s magic

And see they’re magicians themselves- never believing so

And a chameleon, deceivers and angels, live in themselves as all.


Do you measure reality through sustenances of truth?

Submitted: January 29, 2017

© Copyright 2020 Manx. All rights reserved.

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