In streams
you seem to move
ever so slowly
a hand swimming in
the river bed
the head relieved of exhaustation
in
one
fail
swoop
loops
into your membranes
and lies there
the fungus
the virus
grows
and grins
and sins that
you will not
forget
ever
because you cannot
predict

you
can only remember

and lest
you wish to
become
the mouse
now preyed upon
you will not
forget
the senses punctured

ever there
glimmering and glittering
to gather and horde
millions of eyes
looking on
shifting in
the quiet of
this dead air space,
musty and filled
with the mist of gun powder

showered with rose petals
she will still not give in
and so the membership
will long
they will sing
they will design
they will dance
and draw
to worship her countenance
in the reflections
staring back right from the
stream
serene
the sun light
no longer a memory
the cool water no longer
a burial ground
an explosive rush

of putting this
shoving this
of believing this
will go right through
your chest
and shatter your
heart

it falls to the ground
the act complete
her face hidden
by the hands
now stuck

touching

fixed to

hers

01/16/2006

Posted on 01/17/2006
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