Poetry
The Artist Formerly Known as Trish
Square One
This is the veil.
Thinner than our skin.
Two projections which become a whisper of each other.
Does this smile fall blindly upon his heart?
Hesitation that descends like a brick at our feet.
I have not forgotten your subtleties.
There are rhythms I cannot dance to.
Cultures that belong only to my ancestors.
Lovers which will never see me,
traveling these alien landscapes before returning home.
