A Portrait of Perception
Then I dived into the Lethe
And could not recognize even
The pattern of my own face-
But I could easily count, there,
The uncountable lashes
Of your deep smoky eyes.
Then I traveled
To the islands of Lotos Eaters
And found myself forgetting, there,
The limbs of my own-
But I could easily pipe and play
All the reeds of your
Soft, lovely and melodious flute.
Now a portrait of
Perception I can easily exploit
That living without you is
Simply impossible to me
And to my exploited self.
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