By | 16 August 2019

He laid his mind out like parquetry on the floor
all different grains & shades connected
a maze of mandala like geometries
of finer polish than he’d ever thought.

He watched the sun play across its face
fingertips tracing smoothes of skin
without shame of intimacy | intimacy led
to greater purviews of self construction.

He was not he, in the constructed sense
of where light stopped & floor began.
He was he in the reflective sense
of gaze upon glaze of own lacquer.

No dust between he & himself,
reflection cut crisp outlines—
perfectly mirrored movement
on a dance floor | his alone to dance.

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