she

she

 

a trace drawn in the sand

 

directions

move west, always

west where an edge

fluct

uates

between

shore

and sky

 

she speaks a word

just to hear it

 

ave

 

in fare

well

 

*

 

afternoon

at the reservoir

at a looped location

within the sky

 

whether fishing poles

or tuning forks

a hum even here

where the key

changes

 

she tried to capture

sound

 

learned to let it

continue on

just out of reach

 

always, only

at a shore

 

meet there

at the co

incident a glancing

off of two

 

*

 

as the moment draws

near

 

from within,

her hand leaves the imprint,

a membrane expands

 

she falters

without knowing—

falls at the distance

of an altar—

from within

the membrane

of a concept

 

*

 

what is the correspondant

between a shore and an

altar or a sound

felt in the bones around

the heart? I dug in

to find her, did she feel this?

 

a tuning fork

tapped against the table

picks up sound through air

 

look through my hand

in the light, there’s nothing

there but illusion

of blood traced back

to a common source

 

codes evolve in binaries—

light and dark, substance

and foam, blood

and bone, word

and absence

 

but scripts traced on the flip side

no longer do

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