Interruptus
There was honking outside,
rare, but reminiscent
of other more vocal towns.
rare, but reminiscent
of other more vocal towns.
There was an image inside
of what you could see
in such a place.
There were footsteps and barking,
the sounds of my silence;
there was me nodding and moving,
if only for the sake of motion.
There is this never-ending floor
and you somewhere dying –
– are you breathing still?
There is this scar, refusing to heal,
itching like an absence…
If I hold my breath, would you feel it?
If I hold still, would anybody notice?
Somewhere else, something else,
another…
If I leave this unfinished,
would –
(Originally posted on November 21, 2011)
arch.memory 