The Box


Sand dances merrily across my vision
Carried by a sirocco’s gentle touch
my minds eye sets upon the darkening horizon
blurred by tears of helplessness
There, shimmering in its secular glory,a
Soft oasis of my salvation

Sealed in its loneliness
singular within itself but
outside of the expected
A box containing
What?
tricks of the mind?

I see you box you
cannot hide, unless
my imagination should collapse upon itself
leaving you alone
only if you
are real?
What is real in this place?
Myself or
The box?
Or neither?

Open, jaws wide beckoning me
seducing me in its shade
Coolness, tantalizing my flesh
yet burning my eyes
singeing my sun bleached hair
inviting
one step at a time

The box contains a box
within a box
within a box
within a box
how?
it cannot be so
as that would create
solitude

As I languish, lost
in my gaolers laughter
all there was
all there is
all there will be
is
The Box
the symbol of my nightmares.
Over at dVerse, Victoria Slotto is behind the bar. Tonight/today, she is serving up a prompt of symbolism. So if you have time, please pop along and read some of the offerings there, I know they will be pleased to see you.

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About Tino

Fighting to save the sanity of a slightly demented forty something, who is fast approaching becoming a more than slightly demented fifty something ;-) View all posts by Tino

14 responses to “The Box

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