Anamorphosis

Distortion. 

You never realize the incomparable nature of truth. You wake up in the morning, feeling as though the moon decayed into the darkness of night, and that the sun’s shimmering image of hope has risen to save another tender day. 

Tangents.

A hinged door into the possibilities of the extraordinarily unrealistic and distinct unknown. You feel them press their frigid tendencies against you - shivering and skeptical, you remain true. 

Fragments. 

The splinters of memory, splicing and scraping through a surreal mindscape, subsist only to then lodge themselves in standstill. You notice them as a unique piece of evidence - keys to the unresolved mystery. 

Vantage. 

That ill-willed perception in a moment of distress; the epitome of view; the sight of a still-framed mind. You know there are possibilities, the endless circumstances of a greater certainty…but you remain immobile; convinced that there is only one universal plane. Deceived, you reconcile. 

Planar.

That two dimensional space which heaves your inner constitution to an area familiar. Is it, too, deceiving you? Your consciousness attempts to pull apart each piece of the puzzle, but to no avail.  

Slowly, you gravitate to exploration – an uncomfortable ingredient in the poison of discovery. Could this elixir destroy me? I move myself away from originality –away from the foundation of lies. I see it. Finally, I see it! It wades to the forefront; a culmination of legitimacy. 

The Mirror.

Amazed and timid, crazed and delighted, I see that mysterious mirror. You don’t shy. You don’t speak. Although I see it, I dare not look into that deep abyss. But alas, I see something recognizable!

I see a friendly face.

I see the smile of a companion from years past.

I see the joy and sorrow.

I see a recognizable visitor.

I see the truth.

I see you.

The image is clear.

M.H.