Audience

April 3rd, 2020

I woke and thought of you, I slept and dreamt of you, you unfinished, silent fountain, glimmering oblivion in stolid repose.

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I walked along the catalogues,

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and peered at awful oddities, and rent myself in listless lots, in search of you.

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Would you believe, for being willing, I found your form in all?

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The black, the brilliant, broken ghosts, all beauty something you had bade me see.

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The hallowed halls I entered, the crumbling corridors I left, mere rooms inside your story's speechless lines.

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And in each crossroads of the endless land I gazed upon your pain.

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Your glory called to me behind my shoulder, around each corner, in the eyes of strangers, in the salt of my own will.

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But when I see you, as from nowhere, what is it that I see? Am I even truly seeing you?

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Or dread made manifest, are you a mirror trained upon the hollow of me?

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It never mattered to the ages. It will never matter hence.

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And so I seek to let it pass, and to deny the overburdened synapses, the singeing edge,

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Lifeless, locked in orbit round unasked questions and unraveled seams.

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Pictures taken at Naturhistorische Museum, Vienna, February 2020.

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