February 19, 2017

Cochlea

Wispy, 2007

If you want me to remember you
I do

all of me
cellularly.

This season grey
rain swollen
blackwet trees
me-lan-cho-li-a 
covered in
delicious time
to ponder
to find
microscopic snails
peacock pyrite
handspun fibers
of banana
foreign wool
weaving things
I'll never gift
to you

The grass lays down
slumped green tired
dancers
weighted
overwatered.

If you want me to remember you
I do

parts of me
painfully.

To the top of places I go
smiling eyes
hello
quick dart
slow down
marbled ground
consuming
tactile
clay beneath my nails
music lost
swinging
swaying
animal chorus
praying.

The words you do not use
leaves a bruise
a blue black purpleish hue
that I hope does not fade.

Eve by Auguste Rodin