Conversations
remembering at 1:17 p.m. on 2007-05-15
I have no ease in finding words
They do not come to me when I am speaking,
or studying your face intently
You ask,
(Again)
Why is it that I furrow my brow, or make that funny far away face?
And so your theories race, creating plausible outlines of your fears.
There are no words here, I want to say.
Only a view, and a space.
Flickering shadows of lonely clothes,
bleached by old memories, dance idly in the stiff sun.
Drifting back and forth, nudging against each other so slightly
like old friends at Christmas time parties
Or on my bad days- the gallows.
The brightness, expanding the cookie cutter shapes against sharp, scissor grass.
In distance, or maybe very near,
the dull vibrations of the ocean, so massive and so huge,
that it seems to breathe on its own accord
And yet there is silence.
Deafening silence in the undertones of my timeline.
then it is gone.
It�s only a view I know, a vacationing view�
I understand why you ask again
And So I�ll just say,
Once you close your eyes,
you no longer have
conversations left to speak.
never was � never will be
