(aaand numero trois)
I am on a roll with this portraits thing. Here is my Matthew's
Into darkness
into muteness you were solitary thrust
as a punishment for treason to the self
and all you had to feel
was each knuckle in your closed and shaking fist
and the jumping muscle in your grinding jaw.
In a room that smelled of pizza crusts
you blindly mapped yourself in silence
and rendered each discovery in truth
until the ink shone like silver.
Then there was music, there was poetry,
there was purpose, there was light
aglow from self-revelation
heard in more than pounding ears
the hand relaxed with gliding pen
the jaw relaxed in preparation of voice.
Oh, what a joy it is, to know oneself
each flaw, each vice,
what you're seeking,
what you hide from,
what you found.
Into darkness
into muteness you were solitary thrust
as a punishment for treason to the self
and all you had to feel
was each knuckle in your closed and shaking fist
and the jumping muscle in your grinding jaw.
In a room that smelled of pizza crusts
you blindly mapped yourself in silence
and rendered each discovery in truth
until the ink shone like silver.
Then there was music, there was poetry,
there was purpose, there was light
aglow from self-revelation
heard in more than pounding ears
the hand relaxed with gliding pen
the jaw relaxed in preparation of voice.
Oh, what a joy it is, to know oneself
each flaw, each vice,
what you're seeking,
what you hide from,
what you found.