The Soul selects her own society,
then Shuts the door.
Friday, July 13, 2007
It is a house of seven bedrooms, seven forms of mental disabilities; each room to a form unknown. Each are housed in a body whose frame exposes limitation on the inside. A woman dresses herself blindly; her eyeglasses punctuate the dark, in the dark, she is surrounded by voices; the others who speak in a catalogue of textures. Turn the page, we are standing in a speech made of wood, it is a male. She has never seen a tree, or a man, all her life; this life that gets dressed as if she could actually see, browses through drawers for a green shirt with her hand, sensing green in the shadow that the man leaves behind. I close my eyes to understand what she is looking for and walk around her room to imitate what is happening in her mind, in the afternoon, when no one's around.
Posted by HAIR hearts FLIP at 7/13/2007 02:39:00 AM