I forget the 4:56 a.m. train. Now that the days have been filled with yesterdays, tomorrows, days after and before, sometimes, when I look in the mirror I wonder what remains. Nothing remains. But myself with my empty suitcase. Still I wait.Too many days traveling, to not loose oneself.
Too many days hunted by memories of me.
“Forget yourself,” he said, pushing record on a tape player. “Like how I forget to use articles in English language.” He films deliberate, unrehearsed, unpracticed, unconditioned wrong dream, an authentic moment. (And to think that you could recreate it ad-infinitum!)
Listen to the structure fall apart….
When
i
was
Brave
words SENtences THoughts
d
r
o
p
mOUth.
They
R-O-L-L a-roudf In the SPA-ces we
occupy: our kitchen, bed, hallway. Hands shaking, I pretend it makes no difference to me if I look away. He captures me looking away. It’s like the chair you use to sit on in the kitchen, what if it is just a memory of a chair? Symbolic of nothing, or everything that will fade. This is how we pass, like we weren’t even here.
“Did we buy it together? Well it is now mine, it was always mine,it was
always mine, and you broke it. On misunderstanding,
you-"
“Through red-rock landscapes one carries chair. Yet, already, you fight. Look into the camera. Start from: ‘you keep saying this wood is him. However this common word between us tells you that language can’t substitute for life, but it can substitute for something.’”
You filming me sing: “take away the dessert, the rocks, but not the snow from me. Take away the sky,” I yelled against the wind. He said nothing back, except I don’t quite belong. once again, nothing changed. I wish I could just tell him that none of us belong, instead the silence. The moment remains frozen. I wept. I wanted.
But his hands still found my breasts.
Yet, alread, 10 years, together, here.
This is not just another way to define, to explain how I came with, why I endure wave after wave. I cannot look away from us. To outline why I still gaze, still sail, still drift. He’s unpredictable. When I was brave ‘don’t fence me in’ was my song. Now I live on one thought, one human being. Milk and honey. The thought is on another side too sour.
Where’s our connection?” I ask. Is it just a word? Which word? Place me on your tongue. Realize a human being is me, a me, the me, in relation to you. My fingers trying always trying, beating.
A lifetime spent
to touch you,
define you.
To touch me,
create me,
to leave a mark.
Which is nothing, but the murmur of cottonwood trees.
“Anchor me. We sailon dreams, will wake to reality.”
“Reality?”
“The thin moment between tenses of mind.”
“Eat me up or grow up and blow away.”
