post-hypnotic…
some yielding absence
who’s dwelt deep inside
dormant all these years
cloaked from the scrutiny
of my nosy mind’s eye
stirs awake when
an invisible voice
calls my eternal name
but not the one
assigned at birth
which, incidentally,
is the only word
that rhymes w/ orange
and also tastes
just like chicken
–free range, if you must know