pull the

pull the stockings off your eyes
tell me what is real
is it the picture postcard look
or the aura of light
that busts the borders of the living
is it the picture drawn of shadow
or the one scratched out
clawed out
by the birds in your brain

if i had a thing to see
if you did not know it was
if i called it my picture
if you could never know it so
i would have my own vision
you would have your own as well
unseen by me, unseen by them

there is no deep well
there is no amazing omniverse
there is just this picture
howling with all its centuries