22 February 2010

unfastening, unlacing an identity

a detached procession of vieled figures in black.
all marching in silence, to drop their identities into one great box.
the box of lost people.
swallowing the fabrics - scintillating yellows and oranges, deep reds and greens, shimmering blues, and all the rest of them.
leaving them naked.
leaving them all dressed in black.

In the Name of.


  1. just to tell you i read it and have nothing to say. as strange as it might sound to you

  2. yes, it's very strange dearest talma.
    I also thought the same thing - one morning I woke up, and the image of these people were the last fragment of my dream... I don't remember anything else about the dream, but I woke up with a disturbed feeling. (I posted it here exactly as I wrote it down in my journal on that morning). I still don't know what to make of this... but somehow it has something to do with identities and traditions - at least it seems like it.

  3. and it was all done "in the name of" something I couldn't identify... that's why i left that blank...


Comments are your footprints. I'll never know what impression you were left with if you don't leave any footprints behind you. Please share your thoughts. You're also welcome to drop me a personal line at khulud.kh@gmail.com