Free from reason
we remember rhetoric,

Dreamlike
from unconscious mind
to canvas,

soft voices–
sighs
the psyche has distorted.

Did you hear
what I thought you said?

Were you there
in that deserted square
with the endlessly diminishing arcades?

Or were you some cubist fairytale?
Are you a Dali…
a Chagall…

or perhaps
just mystery and melancholy?

*Mystery and Melancholy

 

Painting by Giorgio de Chirico c.1914

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