houses.
2006-07-19 1:50 a.m.
our bodies are primitivedwellings, subject
to want, to needs, to walls, to suffer
the distance of the hallway, to be
insufficient in times of hardship, and they
wither, and they
dry up.
deserts in our stomachs, we have sunk,
have sought only to resurface, to wave
our hands in worry -
tell me, what is coming of this, of this
perilous step, and will it falter, and will i
let you in
if you come knocking?
consequence, try to make predictions
by our movements
by what has already passed, and we
reckon back to one another in restaurants and sickness, in comfort and in aching, no death vow
to seperate us, figureless in our relationship
to one another. i have
no sure footing, no sure intent, so i have lost
the strength in this, and i stumble, cling fast, and i
avoid
action,
and i count away the seconds, steering clear
of what has happened.