paint – May 23

5.23

From the far room Clam

looks like Irish Cream

and Irish Cream looks white.

The color is the same

but light dances, changes

alters in the eye, which is the

brain seeing, knowing, through

the fractal of the lens.

 

Color dances across the palate

fluid, unstable, surprising in its

changes and chances, like a

girlfriend you thought you knew

‘till she opened up unsuspected

doors inside you, and the plan

changed.

 

Seeing is not believing then, believing

is believing. And being open to

what actually shows up on the

doorstep, when you look at it.

No matter what the words say

on the label.

———————

 

 

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