Sunday, May 19, 2013


I can't watch the sea for a long time or what happens on the shore doesn't interest me any more

There were never more than one pair    of hands emptying out the river    and repacking the banks    hiding from the fish the true way to the ocean           keeping in small wet pockets the gathered silt and the shelf    the alert bricks broken down all the bricks placed in a semi circle    and crushed the softened wood    I know who you are I know just who you are    The hands that refill the waters with water     the fish that travel to the river mouth  then spiral    then   return again    The hands that make a keel for the whole body upright    knifing itself on the cool water    the real blisters rising on the step    where the silver straps cross    The hands that part life from life    gather up wet sheets    scoring in the air the slipped sound of a last moon    falling up from a first breath    The hands that part life from life    pass a shade over the eyes     the bodies      being too far away and rigged    No one made love like we did no one ever possibly will    holding our wrists to the insides of our knees    We never matched the tracks of our veins    never held the water in our mouths    These hands never learned how to separate or join    how the unheld grow    taking off their clothes to wait for the Spring    how the mythed speak with the voices of water    a name next to a triumph in the paper                                       she tore    with her feet

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