The illusionist

The first time I knew myself I was sure I was an illusion,inside the soft swaddle of cloth that enveloped my little self.

Up there is an illusionist wearing a skycloth looking down on little selves .The skycloth spread luminously on lonely nights dissolving all selves. Illusionist certainly was our own Maya that dissolved the solid world.

Solid world dissolved circus of a girl abdomen cut in two by buzzsaw. Illusionist was a very curious circus man of solid world on knuckles. Knuckles are a dream of pain hitting hard on our lonely nights.

Illusion is my reality dreamed hard on knuckles, soft on pillow. Illusion is fragment of dream, a night spread out of skycloth.


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