Diane Arbus

Translucent host earthbound.

Flow through me.

Forage around.

Form a puddle on the ground.

Unmistakably in these clear moments.

A moan from my former self.

‘Feet don’t fail me now.’

Diane Arbus

And…

in due course,

the dereliction of blood and what it may sport.

All intent on defiling this jester’s court.

Diane Arbus

When atoms will do what they will.

Traveling, free-floating  and benign.

In a picture of still-life…I cannot help but feel like a manned puppet broken by design.

Diane Arbus

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