CLANDESTINE

There are so many words enclosed in my silence.

Some vague, some obscene, others pitch black... but can't be explained by science.

To get this, you gonna have to perceive beyond the absence of my sound waves , let your mind swirl to the music of my emptiness.

Yet anticipating like a hip-hop fan... "What's Emtee gonna drop next?"

Go deep in meditation like a Buddhist, be subtle at the door... rather than banging with your fist.

Because my thoughts are like nanites , summing up to a complex matrix of messages ... unscrambled by thou blessed with the virtue of patience.

Feed me your focus, and i shall return with a plate containing my essence.

Thus you can gobble me up, as would a gnome in a J.K. Rowling novel.

But of more importance, you get to assimilate what is beneath the sands of my mind.

Relics, artefacts... the thoughts embedded in my subconscious could see you having my heart in fact.

Break it, smash it...do what thou will, because i would if i was you... no regrets, i don't gnash teeth.

Read me like a book if you will, quote me to me... like i was God, and you were the devil utilizing my words against me.

When you pry me open softly, you weaken me from my head to my heels.

When you pay attention aptly, my walls fall down smoothly like banana peels.

Alas!  you hear the music behind the silence.

Alas!  you see the picture within the canvas.

But if you don't, you remain circumnavigated by that seemingly paranormal forever in error , like trying to sketch a circle...ending up with lines stuck in an endless loop, shaped as oval!