Identity

He thought himself a family man.
It was part of his identity.
And yet some other part of him
still tried to set him free.

For every positive there is a negative.
Soon or late, they come to live each other.
Experience enhanced the in between.
Yet still, for her, it was the love
that always set her free.

Intellect, sensation of the flesh.
Emotion and pure intuition mesh.
The way they felt became
so different then.

As if a another diadem had shattered
by the matter they created.
All alone, they wondered through
the great destruction that their
lives became.

A feel of hopelessness was gathering within.
They noted still, the world spin
from day to night again.  But now
the counts had all been altered by the awe.
Insanity was closing in on them.

Pure and free, infinity was ever blossoming.
Where once they knew it real, the feel
of distance intervened yet once again.
A quiet scene - the mortuary.
Gleaming steel with one alone alive.
How deep, the abyss that each death
entailed. Struck down while on the trail
of some great, imagined life. Free, at last,
of all the strife of mortal flesh and mind.

Make-up and another brand new outfit.
Morticians looking for another profit.
So like insurance salesmen, somehow.
Let's try to make another death still
somehow look alive. And steal
another price from the bereaved.

He thought himself a family man.
It was part of his identity.
When was it, that it had become
the base of his insanity...?
And yet some part of him
tried very hard to set him free.

For every positive there is a negative.
Soon or late, they come to live each other.
Experience enhanced the in between.
Yet still, for her, it was the love
that ever set her free.

A sense of freedom - chiming -
filled the mortuary where a dying
form of flesh imagined it lived it on.
And so the earthen magic spun
itself into their lives, eternally...

? Michaelette ?

8/9/2003
Copyright© 2003 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
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