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NIGHT SEQUENCE, IV

 

 

at night,

with its inexplicable charm

the truth of the weak

is silence stripped bare

fingertips tracing the silk of self-deception

a veil transparent to all but the wearer

 

fine grains of clay

on the hard walls of a mosque

deep in my imagination

the dust of oblivion

the shimmer of illusion

 

your skin is the silk,

the veil I wear

by night,

with its inexplicable charm

 

Susan Smith Nash

October 13, 2001