Liar, Liar, Pants On Fire
Identity is a shifting mist…
The world enters through my eyes.
Life is an optical illusion.
I consist of only what I see.
Images penetrate like pornography.
Seeing is sexual. It comes to this.
I am the orgasm of all I’ve seen.
Sight gestates the stories I tell,
narratives construed from vision,
purely personal revelations
understood by my singular self,
the only audience that knows for sure,
ordered lies that transform I to Me,
and create the me that I must be.
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