Anais Nin

Invention was your solitude, your twin,
wasn’t it, Miss Nin?
The way you spread secret pages
like silk violet capes,
like fringed shawls,
over an air of mystery, and err
of desire.
You enabled symmetry, to confess.
Why couldn’t a woman be a fabulous opera fulfilled
nightly through shadowcall and tenor?
Why couldn’t many hands
attend fruitfully to matters of flight
and garden envy?
Paradise, for you, was always one well-flung
entry away, wasn’t it?
A diarist’s mad dash
and hush to engorge, inflame,
and export the wilds of a soul
which outgrew borders
and margins, the fluid spill of ink
a blue bloodlet to let the air in,
to carry visions to siege and form.
You warmed yourself in reveries,
Miss Nin, while attempting to detonate
and explode your neuroses, going so far
as to leave us detailed maps of your psyche’s labyrinths
and grottoes.
Yet, like a cartographer with an interiority complex,
your maps led seekers to regions well beyond you,
territories, unmarked, leading us back to ourselves,
and I, like a spelunker with a hard-on for Sphinxes,
used your maps
to my own advantage,
to reveal and baffle,
to record and dwell,
because, you see, Miss Nin,
your bones carried over
to mine,
as mine will to another,
and so on and so forth,
an underground network
of interconnected bridges and tunnels,
where the tenderest of ravels
come to know the secret bask of pink
on light.

About John Biscello

Originally from Brooklyn, NY, writer, poet, spoken word performer, and playwright, John Biscello now lives in Taos, New Mexico. He is the author of three novels: Broken Land, a Brooklyn Tale, Raking the Dust, and Nocturne Variations, and a collection of stories, Freeze Tag. His fiction and poetry has appeared in: Art Times, nthposition, The Wanderlust Review, Ophelia Street, Caper, Polyphony, Dilate, Militant Roger, Chokecherries, Farmhouse, BENT, The 555 Collective, Instigator, Brass Sopaipilla, The Iconoclast, Adobe Walls, Kansas City Voices, and the Tishman Review. His blog--Notes of an Urban Stray--can be read at Broken Land, a Brooklyn Tale was named Underground Book Reviews 2014 Book of the Year.
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4 Responses to Anais Nin

  1. This was too beautiful, but not as if there is such a thing as too much beautiful but as though myself is now overflowing with the appreciation of it and all I can hope is your beautful goes through me and flows all over everything.
    That’s a crazy sentence.
    The back of pink and light mm, mmm, mm. Love that
    Your bones carried over to mine as mine will to another. So perfect

    Liked by 1 person

  2. jocelyn harper says:

    Wow, John! Splendidly done! I was still musing over your piece on Miller and then you hit me with this. Your ferocious output has my head spinning. Bravo ~ keep it up!

    Liked by 1 person

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