The Face of the Jester

inspired by L.L.

In the deserts of our past

You, the Jester, approach me

The Jester speaks in many tongues

The Jester speaks in fragmented voices

Her words speak not the truth

but do not lie either

The Jester's words are to be experienced

and not understood;

consumed and not heard,

created and not spoken

The Jester is unmoving

The Jester variates

The Jester is resonating

with all the horizons in the fields of her vision

You, the Jester, approach me

in the pits of our desert

In the pits of our desert,

you, the Jester, recite to me my inner voice

You hold out your hand to me and I take it

I take it to be of no harm

You, the Jester, laugh

I do not question your intentions

I can testify their purity

I assume you are laughing with me

You resume to spread into the sands of our bodies

I am in no way violated by your presence

but I am no longer navigating myself

You, the Jester, have bound your self to my senses,

you have revealed to me many worlds;

many worlds, which exist in different times and different spaces

but you, the Jester, do not laugh at me,

you do not mock me

You invite me to your playground

to take your scepter

to shed my skin

to trade in my mask for another

My body is haunted by a stranger,

marked by doubt

I take your hand, the hand of the Jester

A wave of assurance calms me down

I am no longer blinded by the visions of my senses

I am the mausoleum of faces

I intend all the masks in their formless presence

They inhabit spaces of which only extension is perceptible

I am now in the desert of my past,

as I willfully renounce my mask

I have become a wandering specter

I am now a faceless Jester.