Bare Hands

Virgina Woolf. She was a woman.

She said that men use women as mirrors for their own egos.

I wonder if everyone uses everyone else as the floor for their own emotional stability.

I wonder if you look close enough on the floor you see lots of little splinters and go around picking them up with your hands.

Can you turn people in to glass, in to shards?

Does everybody attempt to pave the ground with everybody else?

Are we all united in the floorboards, fitting together and all shaped the same when you step on us?

Are we all standing on top of ourselves?

Virginia Woolf said something about true art not having the emotions of the artist in it.

So the true artist doesn't look at the art and see some mutated version of themself, mutilated in to smears on a canvas or black letters on a white page.

To turn all other people and all things in to the words and look at them.

What's? What?

Words are things you use your throat to make shapes in the air for other people to hear and they picture the thing that society told them goes with that word

I don't know what this has to do with mirrors

I don't know what that has to do with the floor

"Where is everybody?"

Carving a hole in the earth

Illuminating it with many flashing lights

And stepping inside