Portraits

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The art of forgetting made me safe
Even as I dreamt, it protected me
Even as I dreamt, I could stomach the hurt
I could climb the stairs, eyes closed
And look in the mirror without flinching
I was elated, signing inches above the podium
full of people like the sand – no sweet songs
like the Sirens. I experienced love but also
endured suffering. Even the pain
I wore like a white shirt, clear enough
for a painting. I felt the earth protecting me.
When I embraced suffering, and under
the garments tainted white by mischief
I was unfulfilled. I skinned myself
for ink, shoveling blades onto
my veins until the canvas came alive
and birthed a portrait. It hanged. I survived
and felt no danger – nothing at all
I was a primary example of good
Something I am beginning to remember
A jinx that is separating inside me.

© Eddy Ongili, 2016
ArtWork by Schaman

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