I: Sight

the true nature

of sight

seen through closed eyes

in dark

round rooms

with

no corners to hang

the

cloth of thought;

endless flicker

through

inner pictures

of

outer nothing

met in perfect

equilibrium

stabilized in secret

through the muted

dark.

then

the flower sprouts

in acid eyes,

through hidden struts

the world supplies.

in flashing spiral

the formless chaos

of flailing chiral

tentacles

semantic suction cup

receptacles

frantic for their lack

then

black again

without a rhyme

just empty facts

(that flow through time…

a voice in back replies…)

the hollow truth.

• June 2025