The boy and his shadow

(senses)

Have you seen?

Have you seen the boy and his shadow?

Him running away from himself dancing on the earth,

Wild patterns of expectation and movement akin to human kneel,

The faint apparition of Vishnu’s two dimensional silhouette,

 And Him grazing life’s mystics and tribulations unending, 

Have you heard?

Have you heard the cackles of the gypsies in his darkness,

The living black paint moaning from it’s earthly captive,

Spuing non-sense over senses of cloudiness,

And recanting tales of shining and dimming,

Have you touched?

Have you touch the boy’s death and felt it’s sting?

Followed nothing with principles of taught reward,

Communicated self-molecules for matter / anti-matter,

Caress nothing you saw real, but felt it staring,

Darkness into you,

Have you tasted?

Have you tasted the bitter/sweet concoction of his soul?

The reminisce of salted tears and tart thoughts,

The bending flavor of unknown,

And candied blood of his apple,

Simmering with the dirt horizontal,

Do you smell?

Do you smell the black of him wanting freedom?

The stench of ridicule grandiose,

The mapping vim of repose, 

A transitory sweet of honey,

Pressing against the face?

Dreaming 

Dreaming somewhere deep south of rhythm,

He moves along with himself attached,

Scissors in hand to snip away himself,

The boy and his shadow.

To: Ennio Morricone’s “The Crisis”