HELEN VITORIA
Self Portrait as an Insomniac
inside the right vacuum or an enclosed crooked vessel I am barely awake or asleep
with lighting that is very poor or just perfect a place of drenched color that resembles a sink turns into something that resembles my palm a palate or a limb
somewhere I can hear trees, I can hear saffron falling it is 3am, and the rest of the city is a clinched night there are three of me –
standing on the loam tiled floor, a rushing river, or a swamp there may be quicksand I am waking as if
waiting for a stranger, or a demon
to make me an image that night swallows make me an image of longing or a brushstroke on canvas, awakening
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