morphic resonance

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…