Body Double

by Ma Yongbo

The feeling of entering something makes you hesitate
Perhaps the void inside and that around
Contain a certain continuity, which is aroma
Extracted from the same plant, before you can think
You find yourself in the seal’s yellowish skin and brain
Careful salute to those entering before you is needed
Who are statuettes in rows above clapboard
They eye each other after you turn away
Yet you come here anyway
As if to enjoy the invisible look that
Surrounds and measures you, the uncomfortable presence
in–yourself
Then you have also become an old object, dim bronze ware
Ceramic fireplace unused for years, books for ornament
Arched windows occupy almost the whole wall
As the stale afternoon sun shining through stained glass
Something seems to be moved secretly
Like details neglected or left out while being reviewed
But nobody will mind it long. This Russian mansion
Is canopied by an elm whose leaves start to turn yellow ahead to
season
Located in a sidestreet, breeze comes occasionally
From the green wooden loggia