there is red

under my eyes
& i am convinced that if you listen
to the sounds of your own footsteps
walking away for long enough,
things become harder to believe,
you tell your self
that color is a lie
& have no choice but to trust your
self,

   you are alone.

pure & naked to the air.
you are alone & you are
gaining ground, particle by the particle.  you stop
to rest, you breathe, you
cross your legs.  you feel the curb
of the sidewalk bending the undersides of your thighs.



2.
some times when i am walking, i forget.
i crave my body, press it against water.  i say
prayers in to my invisible hands.
i sing,
please: reappear:

i will greet you warmly if you come.

& god begins to fumble with his fingers, peeling
back his cuticles, licking
the corners of his mouth, dripping
out from beneath the creases.

he rubs fleece against his palm.
he speaks to me, says,
if there were a truth to skin, i would share it
with you, but there is not.

my mouth is an imaginary basket.

you feed it fruit, & when it is full
you say,

swallow.

you have not noticed yet,
i have not told you yet, but
it is too late, now,

i am seeking home.  i have turned
around & the texture has begun
to fall back in to focus.  i find the grain
of wood, with my tongue, a splinter.  a fence,
whitewashed:
i am flying out of windows & when
i hit, there will be no time for warmth,
but may be you will be there
waiting, dear November, for the blood
to spill out of my brain.

may be you will anticipate it
like sugar at the back of your throat,
yes: the blood
leaking out of my ear,
running to the pavement.
may be you will love it, hate it
reach down & touch it
bring it to your nose.  may be you will
relish it, think its scent
like southern soil, rich, rusty
as an old shed.

because

you do not know that, as i walk, i disappear;
you do not know that i have turned away
the sun wretching & kicking in side of me.
it peers out from my navel,
knocks against the window
wishing you would see it spotting
the glass in front of you
& push it against the clay of your pupils

10/09/2001

Posted on 10/09/2001
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