this blue earth
this blue earth which is a sky, and I,
holding fast to an unbroken life.
last night I learned the disadvantage of stones:
they
can be thrown only once.
to speak with one is to speak with all,
our downfall
not through lack of words, just waiting.
again I read your biography before it began,
the story
of growing up without recourse to an I.
the selfish selflessness, and its bitter progeny.
there was a time when we ran towards the perfection of
a
5 degree drop in temperature after the middle of the day,
lost in the
heat of glances: avatars of eternal spite.
the future consists not of words but time,
when there
is no longer any other in another.
what you know is known to me,
without knowing what any
of this is about.
the you I know is known to me,
without knowing you is
no longer without.
there is no state of knowledge without its grace,
I
only know what you never called your own.
what I call tragedy, you refuse to see,
maybe that’s
the way it’s supposed to be.
would you break that sky with this stone
if I told you
one more time
of the memory I refuse to subject to remedial
alteration?
that time had something to say,
even while someone
else said it better.
reconstruct, cries this blade,
relieve the agony of
envy, re-leave.
but there is nothing as persistent
as a flicker of
motion which might be your last.
and the sun, how could you never notice its
halo?
blind to this forgotten future,
I await you at the
entrance to my own imagined kingdom.
where you and I join hands without speaking a
word,
there are not just words this time.
there are no just words this time.
the virtue of stones that can be thrown only
once;
disadvantage displaced, I await your indecision.
lie without speaking a word,
in that garden where
words are leaves and silence is seasonal.
to lie without lying in grass never riven
to dream
without dreaming of promises given.
stripped to bones at the end of the
day,
constellations swim unperturbed through this aching hour.
ripples subsiding, already altered by
reflection,
how many times did we fly before sinking?
wait for the river to return to this spot,
wonder if
there is anything worth saying twice.
wait at precisely this point in time so infinite,
its
not even worth mentioning anymore.
so why did I ask what you’d do,
when I knew very well
the last person to know
would be you.