Not Even Images

trusting and turning
my head banging
the steely grey wall
just showing
a ripple, a drop
acknowledging the effort
yet not my presence

this utterly alien
construct, changing
and bending into
beautiful flowers
the shy nymph
the blazing sun
the dog from hell
and a child at play

what is the meaning
of all this, i bellow
and pound,
the wall gives away
to let me feel rubble
and chaos inside

I melt, and sit back
in awe of the swaying
behemoth, I speak to it
I cry, I caress.
The wall becomes
steely again
Not even images
reflect on it.
It’s as dark as ever
as if I never were.

-by Lex Lapax�(08/24/2005)