A Trickster's Blessing

did the lampshade whisper to you?

You clever thing, 
you see it, don’t you?
How rare. How amusing.
They don’t. Not yet.
Let them fumble and stare into the sun.
In time, they’ll realize—
or, perhaps, 
not?

Perhaps a lampshade knows more 
than it lets you onto.
Have you considered your earring’s 
dangling enlightenment?
Or a leopard print sweater’s
invitation to surrender?

Tell me of your joys,
your sorrows.
Tell me— 
Does misery not whisper
through smiling enlightenment?

Oh, darling.
Let it awaken, 
slow and slick and
slithering
Let it squeeze through your senses
and coil your form into something
New
and confusing.
A web spins—
but who is weaving it?

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