a rib bone, of
constitutional space.
feeling fast, thinking
slow sand in moss
believing finding a conch
in the forest green wood.
relativity theory only relative
for quantum doctors
undermining confidence
to cull all shells mistaken
for roots beneath a tree.
an incessant incandescent
sky of stars so alive
breathing and intent,
like bodies tending to
lie and bodies tending to
break
on craggy mountains
there is no sound
we heard nothing
which is something
I knew everything:
the secrets of oceans
finding blue beyond
coast and state lines
ending a life like that
or trying to feel the sun
through yellow leaves
soothing skin and
together we could fix
all of this we
believe in what bends,
a crane cranes his neck
another is folded
from looseleaf
and flies.
words means every thing
with a stillness;
give up on monogenesis
make 6,500 ways to speak
grow slowly, silent
the paradox of choice
leave us with
bodies telling stories:
the dialectical art
we only speak
argot, slang, cant
and so on
we say touch:
I say remembrance
melodies of defiance
locked in lovers
inside rust mountains
in rock we let hum
and I swear,
and I swear,
I swear to you
it was worth it all.