Unexpected Beauty


God, she is gorgeous. I am made to say
About so many chiselled ephemeral faces
Representing some loose collections
Of partially integrated personalities.

Symptoms are mild manners and anaesthesia,
But the ailment is still a crushing mystery
Which even the best minds have yet to tackle,
For not knowing exactly where to begin.

Obviously something is not quite right here
Assumed by the hopelessness in the possibility
Of opening up the mind of this baby doll
To the realities of a higher human biology.

I learn that the Id resides not in the brain.
It twitches in the labyrinth of nerve ends.
It responds impulsively to external stimuli
And this is why Prudence makes me nervous.

She knows not that in a lair she is trapped,
That only a true prince can slay the dragon,
To set her free from the run of the mill,
To let her be one with every map of meaning.

I learn much later that I prefer shadows.
You see, my folks tell stories by candlelight.
Then one day out of the shadows she came,
This unexpected thing of profound beauty.

Chiusi, 18 1 2018