Seppuku

Seppuku
I was committed with eyes to the world that surrounded me.
A stroke drew my reflected desolation in your chamber of whispers
and you saw with colourful sips my essence wearying out
like a fading butterfly in the gloom.
I was transformed in your capsule of falling tears
razor sharp mirrors cutting my unwashed skin
excessive carelessness painted me with red dust like a Hindu cloth
misplaced
Kneeling towards Mecca
The white walls of the Majid;
echoing mantras in a cross-shaped lotus
confuse beyond all religion and conviction
strapped in a luminous chair of lies.
It's been here all along and it will always be
like a memory preserved in a body
in an instant.
Outside the powerful Raj is the God of his own dreams.
He mesmerises the cobras with his invisible hands making there eyes spiral in red and yellow patterns.
When I stay in bed without the sun to remind me I am bowing
I'm imprisoned
We must look far to see our own extent
Our boundaries stretch both ways like an infinite multiple of self.
The clear water is the well we hold and shed
tumbling shooting existence in every direction of our land;
we change together nude in pure smiles of oblivion.
By Tom Sottomayor