exercise #2

2/19 We crawled through dust, a pair of snakes.
We devoured our former selves and we, belly full of molt, we moved parallel to the city on the horizon.

2/23 Unwritten letter
He thought to translate her touch into an unborn language, but he found her hands could not be conjugates.

2/25 Evidence of a real pre-existence: I have seen you before.
Under water perhaps--the last great frontier. Eyes open, as always, eyes open. You came before vocabulary, before the capacity for more.

2/29 morning clearness
looms days away. Here is our event horizon; here we slide molecule at a time for all the was is will be, and I disbelieve. First comes an unpleasant sound, followed by a separation, then warmth-suffusive- and you.


(portions taken from the blue octavo notebooks of Kafka)

deep ocean blues

As if the sound were coming not from the larynx but somewhere near the heart. I hear him now far away, think of deep sea bloops recorded at living decibels, made by creatures larger than vocabulary knows. I see him, just barely, above me now, think of migrating flocks five hours vast. All this clumsiness, the clever minutes--this could be the closest we will come to cooperating, and yet.