Friday, April 22, 2005

the silences (draft)

Now, the silence of fingers through hair, of imperfect

engines. Paper gone pink at the edges, and the whiskey-

throated woman finished singing. The silence of fifth grade

valentines crumpling in desks. Of mouths pressed to palms

inside sleeping bags, or the blue insects gliding the oil-stained

driveway. Now, the yolk in the hand, bloody, the math

problem involving bones and sticks, where I name

myself geometry. The silence that halves, then halves again

No comments: