Descartes' famous words,
"Cogito ergo sum."
I think, therefore I am.
In my mind's eye,
I think that children are born pure white.
I was, at one point in time.
But in this moment, I am chromatic gray;
My experiences painted in an optical mix of volatile violets and sorrowful yellows.
Who I am is seemingly defined by the time of day.
By daylight, I am camouflaged in pastels,
Saccharine sweet and bubbly.
At sunset, a metamorphosis occurs.
In the moonlight I am shrouded in passionate red and mysterious black.
Enticing those around me, challenging them silently
To unravel me
To demystify me
Then bind me,
I wear different faces
As I go various places.
I dream and die as the moon waxes and wanes.
This week, I've sprinkled myself in arsenic green
As a warning to those around me to not get too close,
Lest my ministrations affect you.
I strongly identify with Stravinsky's Sacre du Printemps,
I think of it as a reflection of my mind's eye.