Visions of looking through a lens at me in the reflective glass shows my desire to capture my soul.  I arrange my life on the shelf to make me feel the need to look arranged, not deranged, say cheese let go.  My Spirit is hanging on the shelf, in a box that shine with a lot of questionable wealth.

  On my left which is my right comes a glimmer of light only to reflect on my ego, I mean easel.   The black tube on my right which is on my left teles a vison of what I'm to be.  Suspended in air, I don't care, this reflection is totally me. 

Who am I?

YBe anything other than 1's self?

   

By at

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