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Seeing Things



Once, we traveled to see the world.

Now, having stepped on every inch of it,
we travel to see ourselves.

Though what I see be damaged by my seeing,
still I must look, and trust its powers of recovery.

None have eyes in dreams—
all are blind, yet see.

Seeing without self.
Seeing through selves.

Who feeds on unseen dreams?

I don't see
what eye can't think.

I want to intimasee,
as I as the far can see.

All poems are written and copyrighted by Michael C. Rush.
None may be republished or repurposed without permission.