Above the boulevards of sweat
where the kids are gathering again
at the back of a public bus
to plan the resurrection of laughter
an old woman on a bench slides
both pink shoes off her feet
at the beginning of spring
so she can sit a while longer
and look at the same river as us
As if she needs a little extra heat
she rubs her hands together so vigorously
the jays all leap at once
I could stop the sun right now
I could be wicked as a fruit thief
I could touch your middle knuckle with my thumb
and pretend I don’t know all your names
but the cherry blossoms are just coming into view
From the heights old men secretly wish
to leap into their creamy bloom
Logic tells them Patience Friend Wait
another year It took a long time
for you and I to follow the river
back to where it kills
and Nature isn’t the only murderer
to go free but at least it’s got a million
tasks for the tongue
so when two mouths come together
they only mean to stand for emptiness
They redraw borders in the smallest districts
of the body like the passing of an electron
from hydrogen to hydrogen to form
another variation of water These days
everywhere I go
a word I can’t pronounce begins
to sing deep inside me It signifies
half an absence Your mouth signifies another
Between the two of us we are bearing
six languages into the future
We share the seventh which is silence
The century ahead of us will want to know
how the landscapes changed
in our brief lifetimes I want to be clear
We stripped
to our ankles once and danced
We catalogued each vibrant thing
beside a dying river at dusk
We became whatever we named
We were so sick from suffering
we pressed our lips
to everything
we could not bless
