delay
delay
delay
again awake,
another day.
the edge removed by the familiar white serpent,
blue and thin, beckoning come hither,
like a withered, pointed finger,
come hither,
young child,
open your chest,
allow me,
into your lungs, your veins,
permeate your center,
and see from your eyes.
rasie a murky cloud, step deeper,
into the fog that always remains on the distance,
behind the mask,
the white cloud is cast
follow me,
young child,
it is only another day.
I enjoy the imagery that this line, “like a withered, pointed finger”, evokes. I picture a transparent white morphed serpent lady pointing her finger, which is actually a snakes head that is biting into the child’ heart. And when s/he bites into the child’s flesh the tongue of the snake extends and searches the child’s whole being for the child’s inner essence, for I equated looking through the child’s eyes with the notion of a soul. Very interesting!
that was a rather abstract write and i think you felt the major notions which were few and minimal.
that is interesting you would say a ‘serpent lady’ because i was thinking about addiction, more specifically smoking in the morning… and addiction , if I had to picture her in my mind, would definitely be dark haired and tempting in the worst way.
just like you said above, the child is a soul, and as the snake pierces the vein, and enters the soul, the drug clouds the mind, and controls the day… takes the edge off, what was potential is now on rails, moving in a predictable, drug addicted way… and what could be a prosperous, new day, becomes procrastination and idleing.
delay
delay
delay
again
it is another
day.