9.05.2005

Missing: Words == Have You Seen This, Child?

She hovered between thin pages,
Deliciously fingering leaves as thin
As corneas.

Lacking the grasp to
Contain the disparate suffering
Of dusk in the bayou,
She returned to a memory.

The universe progresses forth
Through minute details -- moments
That may or may not be absorbed into language;
A single finger tracing a line
Down the diaphanous length of wrist's flesh;
Unplanned darkness;
The space between the slender curve of question mark
To the barren bloom of period's diameter.

With coarse desperation, she paused between
The syllables of words that curled her into a palm:

Inosculate.

Solipsist.

Blight.

An unseen arm beat her Gatsby boats on
And she smiled guilessly, engorged
With each dispatch possibility.

You have words, she sounded,
For longing.

Sheepsmeadow, Central Park, Labor Day 2005