It’s
as if you just returned
From
somewhere west of the future
And
find yourself unpacking books
You
haven’t seen in twenty years
Sudden
distances appear in the sun-stained room
Global
meridians unfold from your open hands
You cleave stubbornly to a hole in the air
With
all the rest of your songs even
Without
language
It’s
okay
There
will be singing
Beyond
the final dusty hiss
Of
human thought
You’ve
got them now
Swimming
in your stomach
The
skinstripped words
You
drank from my mouth
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