Aphantasia, A Poem

Third-eye projector void

Still running and shining

Film reeling with no image

Angel with goose-feathered wings

Swooped to the artifice

Running as hot as igneous

And still no image

How can you be in a theatre

If you can’t play video?

Angel asking marrow-deep question

Am I broken? Artifice searched within

Accompanied by goose down rain

Still the Artifice whirred

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