| lost |
[12 Jan 2006|02:04am] |
something unspeakable.
my hands, mouth, teeth,
nails. i (and you)
can, without utilizing
my (our) voices, ...
expect some explanation
or truce or
(nevernohow) justification of these
words -
here
now
then
also
without.
slow down.
and remind me of what it means
to be loved and
to feel love one more time
or many times or forever and
where are you?
are you sleeping, dreaming of me?
dreaming yet
of promises unkept,
soil in your coffee? everything
and nothing, foul and forward;
end this there, then;
because it
goes nowhere
and even if i had not slept in
8 days
i would go to where you were, and smile
when our eyes met.
any word is only
as real as it can be, which is
hardly. and if i know
what is good for me,
that is all i will say.
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| finishinging |
[12 Jan 2006|09:02am] |
i wish i knew
what my hands said
to each other
while i lay sleeping,
and enough
are still spelled
with a g.
except my voice
was thrown way
out of the path
and no crumbs
to lead it back, killing
all things and
like all things;
time is
nourishment
as joy and sorrow is;
as fret and relief.
as yesterday and tomorrow.
as well as you or i
might believe.
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