Black Flesh
A ray of moonlight
is drawn
on the ceiling,
entering the room
from the slight
space between
the curtains;
I close my eyes
and my thoughts
stick to the inside
of my lids,
forming an infinite
ensemble of stars, white
and evasive
shimmering against
the abstract cosmos
of my flesh-
When your eyes
are closed, your vision
is supposed to bring
pitch black darkness
but for some reason
tonight, all I can see
are the glinting
stars unfolding
as though on a
black canvas;
The space that is
dedicated to sleep
and nothingness, one
where thoughts
are supposed to go to
rest
becomes a screen of
possibility that for some
reason, tonight, is
appeasing-
I breathe-
Suddenly the white
specks
start forming
geometrical
shapes of different colors
moving like
large clouds
or nebulae:
some green,
some dark pink
I breathe-
The sky-like landscape
becomes an ocean
whose current pushes
and pulls waves on the
sand;
A coming and going
that reminds me of the
infinite pattern of
life
between waking
and sleeping, between
moving and standing still-
The pauses in between the
waves are like the uncertainty
that rules the
Universe.
I open my eyes again:
the triangle of moonlight
is still there on the
ceiling: a bit larger
Like the vision
offered by my
closed eyes, it seems
to expand;
I close my eyes and see
the ghost of its shape
against my black
flesh
I follow its outline
slowly
before letting my
mind sink in a pit
and rest at the
pitch black
bottom of it
Embracing the
pleasure of oblivion
and forgetfulness
Author: Claire Andreani
0 Comments