staircase
© 1995 Devon Koren

no one knows the stairwell
as i do
echoes that fall to their death
in its eye
and the lost thoughts
that encompass the empty shadows
where the
concrete spiders
laugh at our futile masquerade
there is a certain freedom in
being imprisoned
once i caught a shadow with my net of violet amethysts
and interverted colours of the summer carnivals
danced upon millions of pastels
some which haven't even been invented yet
the stairway cradles
a darkness
that is not darkness
because the plastic men have posted
streetlamps here
imaginary moonlight
i hide in my corner of delirium
as children older than i
watch
with curious apprehension
a shadow within a shadow
my pinwheel smiles for me
one of them informed me
that dream was dead today
my black faerie boots barely scratch the
marble surface
the looking glass lies to me
i realize the fatality of the scars where you
severed
my shroud of butterfly wings