IV.
They made me wonder where nature
hid its famed silken-wing freeway
from adhesive residential larva
My retinal royalty
was bustled to a squint
to register the flashpan flowering
of fashion sense
by the girls with whom I shared my youth
Cracked fabrics unveiled new anatomies
like the moulting mantises of the biologist
I worked alongside
I grew up inside a zipper
just like nature's caterpillar
No winged secretions of mine would hedge
secrecy's whistle-blowing shrubbery
My eyes were my wings
and on their own were no one's mystery
No mystery
like the discipline
that swam down his forehead and neck
and broadcasted off his torso
like proud chrome ripples on an earless
television screen
No mystery
like his favourite colour
too swirled up in the the frantic extrovert's
paraphernalia to boast facthood
among an indifferent village
that saw and rationalized a blur
To the heiress of the near-entire
village's superintention of sight
No mystery that pink
is his favourite colour
V.
Maybe the bravery to talk to him
would meet with smile's consent
to laugh at him
Laughter lends it lingo to nicknames
and maybe I'm well-read enough
to nickname him
And were it all so I'd call him
Anahota
Why must these royal eyes
so close to true conclusions
save his cells for sleep-seeing
In live motion let me see them chipping
only soft enough to chip never crack
the pillars of devotion compassion
unconditional love
Anahota
The Heart Chakra
Colours of association
pink and green
VI.
My quivering lips
were poised to thank God
at the sight of his sparing your vital points
with his ceremonial pins
Then I read the name
off the lips of the robed one
photo-opping his extreme acupuncture
for a village under prophetic sky
bleeding from the sort of wound
deemed myth against the famed
auras of its surveillance
A village awarded
the realization of a royal family's
genetic heirloom
Perfect eyesight everywhere
The blemish of a blind spot
everywhere
VII.
Shrunken but in view
I saw the playground
My wrist gravitated to the harness
of my father's hand
as he shook his head and said
ignore him
That boy is dangerous for miles
Whispers of agreement
climbed the vocals of the crowd
and dove from their mouths in horror
when the hollow pop of a broken lock
rhymed with my arm severing
the walk of protocol to run to you
Like a hang-glider with a collapsed wing
my good arm convinced enough wind
to accept a limp for a sprint
Sandpaper chants kept pace
with my ears
Get her
The one from the royal clan
with the weird eyes
that think it makes them
better than us
I bet she's snobby like them too
Let's teach her a lesson
This time
he didn't need to drop jesterhood
for monotone threats to leave me alone
His smile close by
close as under my eyes
was jest enough to entertain me
stunt double of my own family
This time
I would bring the monotone to him
VIII.
What is the great divide
Is it the mapped borders
of ourselves and neighbours
adamant on paper
invisible between the backs
of infant tantrum engines
respective pairs of arms crossed
like duelling airlocks
Is it the instant prairie
of resigned demolition
traversed by me
trip by scabbing trip
to split the line of fire
traced helplessly by his sedation
to the coming march of the robed man
Or was it me
shunning loud pleas on one end
and hushed threats on the other
to achieve a goal of both
Connect people where division lives
Almost theatrical
was the pace of the robed man
saving me
just like the smile of the boy
pre-trapped
who never knew I noticed
I wouldn't have to scream
in accordance with the dream
I pulled him through in years
following his playground exploits
There was time for every syllable
imprisoned to be freed
The pace of the robed man saved my dream
even in his clearing of the path
A sooner leap from the fence of fear
could have put me in the path of his pins
landing my impaled body on the meant target
like a Shakespearean pincushion
No such apocalypse was ever needed
for me to divide his body
from the unforgiving world
with my own
Unzip my waiting butterfly wings
I would have told him
and bring connection to division
And look me in the eyes
Our stomachs never met
but it looked like I widened your eyes
as my own thinned to closure
The royal stunt double overshot her mark
