I dreamed my walls were covered with words and lines,
prayers for rivers, and requiems for falling stars,
incantations, holy spells that glided over my flesh
...
All This I Loved
I dreamed my walls were covered with words and lines,
prayers for rivers, and requiems for falling stars,
incantations, holy spells that glided over my flesh
as I walked through the rooms
seizing the words, even those vague and blurred
apparitions, gods, animals, the trees, walls of the world,
ghosts of myth and change, I heard their weak cries,
trees dreaming, rivers speaking in 7000 languages,
I loved them all, the sounds, the apparitions, my desires,
my own madness, my drawings that were wild and free, lines in black ink,
faces like Basquiat’s, like Soutine, I loved winter, rain, the sea,
gardens, tea, forests at night, offerings of blood and ink, words, words,
all this I loved, and more.
but nothing is for certain,
or forever,
old and broken
I lie here
in a winter light,
with my secrets still unspoken.
everything is gone
everything, everything.
on this watch, I have coal dust for eyes.