Not To Be Reproduced, 1937, Rene Magritte
We assume lots. I’d share.
You keep questions/answers
Only me. Trapped in old fashioned
manner. Surrealism. I float in a
guard free stream.
All dressed up. No face. It’s within.
Ears-shells. A key into - whisper…
Hair-waves reflecting sunbeams.
In reality I’m still not sure:
will I sailing…
Gordon Pym. Whaling Harbor.
Sailboat Ariel. Ocean breeze.
Or – just sit at the bay,
read adventurous story
by Edgar Allan Poe
deeply peering in dreams.