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Mar 2014
Five bars boxed conceal my fate,
opulent stiff trees sit outside an iron grate.
I can't leave this prison for I'm the secret's committee--
my captors want the source of my surreptitious serendipity.

In the surreal landscape stood a man
laying in the vertical catamaran;
he's not a man queer and unknown,
but a queer man with the same face as my own.

I stare as I stare, and a smile breaks
like a mirrored leaf fallen, ripples a still lake.
The forest becomes him, for blurred vision ensues.
Teared freedom he uses, for to blink I refuse

My oppressors' gaze won't break away.
Believing I pine to nap under the trees' shade
Yet I'm as liberated as I am confined,
so my life alone I will never mind

I've done, will do, and am doing everything I want,
so when I close my eyes the wind is my confidant.
Speaking to me I follow its every elision--
the eurythmic breeze unleashes my inhibitions.

Leading me to the dark corner of my cell
with beauty all around me I stay in this hell
As night falls the bars rise in turn,
for the clear, star-streaked sky I yearn.

On queue the creek of a door latch is heard
I must choose but my decision won't be deterred:
the door leads to my guardians' labyrinthine maze,
the window-- a drop to the darkness, who preys.

So what do I do? Flip a coin with no sides.
With the decision face up in the moon's candlelight.
Frozen by fear of the known and untold.
Convinced I'm not ready, my merits must mold.
Sean Yessayan
Written by
Sean Yessayan
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