Mythorrhea


The words,
veil
what you think you have read.

You read anyway.

“You think you know me
by
my breath,
my subtle variations”

What does it say to you?

You lift a veil,
which was
one layer of meaning.

The sentence changes.

It sings of skin
and
undulant desire.

Each veil removed,
becomes a deciphering
of what you imagine to be
underneath.

You tire of artistry
and long for
the nakedness of the line.

You strip the protective inverted commas away.
You peel off strata of myth and meaning.
You are confronted with an animal grunt.

And you begin to interpret.

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3 thoughts on “Mythorrhea

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