by Teri Buford O'Shea

As I share my face with you

I long for a deeper acquaintance
I walk through quicksand silence
To the end of the world
And jump….
Through madness into death

What the soul is…
Nobody knows
An uncertain dream perhaps
The mind clinging to a space of its own
In search of a surly rapture
Simply to erase time

I slide out of the dark
Into the sun’s buttery fingers
This split mask reminds me
That I share my face with you
So that you can witness
Beauty unimaginable

(Teri Buford O’Shea is a frequent contributor to the jonestown report. Her complete collection of writings may be found here).

Originally posted on July 25th, 2013.

Last modified on January 14th, 2014.
Skip to main content