Thursday, December 4, 2014

Arguing the uniqueness of man by regarding the treachery of images

He dreams of a poet in the crowd
whose face resembles mine

a vast, heartening smile that
matches big pensive eyes

he scans her for words
determined to find out for how long

they linger on her lips.
he doesn't know

I find it difficult
to be around people

to speak my words point-blank
to refrain my eyes from the violent blue.

I am not the poet.

1 comment:

  1. This poem is uniquely self-examinatory, in that the poet is presented from the point of view of an observer until you switch to the subjective case at the end. Such inspiring technique you have, Kenia. To me, you are THE poet.