(1758 - 1800 / England)

Between The Veils

Knowing too much
was sin. I will shut
all the windows, one by one.

Trapped in his hymns
the man made god―
trembles.

In virtual collusion
between real and fake, you
will ask― what was true,
what was not.

Something was left
always, unsaid. You were becoming
afraid of yourself.

Incorrigible,
the fire― loves the body
to write a mantra of oblivion,
burned to ashes
in bed.

Someone lives in your eyes unseen.

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