Is that me?

I rise

like the Phoenix

only to die again

several times.


Images rule

but mirrors are obsolete.


My form melts

To create several new shapes

until I do not

recognize myself.


Vision is a relic of the past

fluidity, the new concrete.


I saw influence

giving way to manipulation

and diplomacy

to multiple-speak.


If sensitivity is dead

Why did I learn etiquette?


The subtlety of my existence

acquires new dimensions

in absence of boundaries

to confine growth.


I move beyond myself, to see

where the auras meet.


Inspired by the prompt at #writephoto by Sue Vincent

Thursday photo prompt – Deep #writephoto

7 thoughts on “Is that me?

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