I can’t figure what it is
from such a peculiar entrance;
so nebulously alluring
that I feel I need
to know more and yet
I fear its gravity.
I’m going to change, and
I know it because
my skin is tight.
I feel cracks giving-way
to a tender bareness
and have lost my day-sight
to the cloudy haze of a crusted
over fibrous layer, silver-grey
and blind;
I search from behind
the eyes. An ethereally
translucent foot pushes free
from the hardened burden,
the dried shell I’m leaving
behind, as I step forward.
The desiccated membrane
gives way and I see it,
so nebulously alluring;
the looking-glass magician
takes a bow and the curtain
drops, red velvet, silky-shine,
heavily laden with fringe
to cover that most delicate
organ beating
in my chest —
such a deceptive arrest.
Did you paint this? It’s like little kid from the sun major arcana tarot card but in the shade or shadows.
Yes, it's my work. :)
It kind of feels like the Magician to me, yet, I now see what you see. Thank you.
The desiccated membrane
gives way and I see it,
so nebulously alluring;
the looking-glass magician
takes a bow and the curtain
drops, red velvet, silky-shine,
Simply fabulous, mamadini:)
<3 Thank you, dear.
Both comments so far are reflecting my thoughts.
Firstly wondering if but assuming that the painting is yours.
I see semi grown alien birth. Red lips.
And from your words I get [re]birth.
And [obviously(?)] metamorphosis...
Yep, My work. It's a small oil on canvas, fast sketch. I like to do full oil painting sketches in under an hour, from prime to top washes, like fast writes, don't sweat the details. ;)
Dude. Gross. Brilliant and weird. Your words are so sticky and descriptive. It kinda gives me the creeps, in a freaky cool way ;)
JP, those are woo words (as in the traditional sense).... ::giggles:: ;)