A Word for a Play

Being pulled out of my language now speaking – witness translate I write – Our

Hands have never lied

Images hide a world – Images announce a world – describe what you see and go

Open up images – Do you see it – end of new eyes

What color is the black bird

Her name begins with the letter O or L and mine begins with me

not a sound – we haven`t created anything and lucky for leaks

That there is force between you and the crushing world is plenty

I want to remember what dreams are for – I don`t want to know what dreams mean

We will never be trained well enough like this

There will be no arrival – I am only speaking into you – Perhaps

the storyteller and the listener are the same – I write because I don`t know you at all

because outside agreements are a consideration I know I swore I`d never do it again

words create a simultaneous entry

The door is closed

The door is open

It began with a water drop – a drop of water

Textual kinship is good home training – It began with a text – translating yourselves to yourself

We are all in here

Can we choreograph my text – I don’t speak to say what I mean

I speak to our with that I may discover what I mean

What really needs to be said – we mustn`t quote each other anymore

Quotes are memory going deeper into where language shifts you

Write what happened to your body – where you went – not what was said

You were already there for so long – what opens us knows only the power of our organs

and collaboration and ears – I write to tell you I am here

that I will cut your fragments open your empty mouth ready

photo by Christelle Geiser