What Are The Consequences Of Silence? Poem by Bhanu Kapil Rider

53.

Red Canna, I see you. Edge of. What I saw: a flower blossoming, in slow motion.
Not specific enough. Okay. No. Cannot. Red Canna, I veer into you. I am not in
one straight line. Red Canna, I see you. 1904. The University of Arizona Museum
of Art. Opening in slow motion: are you okay? Are you okay? Can you hear me?
(I can't)

That's how it begins: impenetrable.

The book of two words I happen to see, out of the corner of my eye, on a wall. Such
slowness.

These words took years to arrive.