Meditações - The clock on your thigh is ticking

Strangers

Tremendous orange things are happening somewhere.

I lay a wooden stick for stirring on the white note

on the desk. I lay a stain on the clean note.

 

Somewhere things are happening. Marvelous orange

and purple things. Flooding rivers at dusk, wheels threading

roads in the desert. Strangers. Strangers. Sea.

 

Somewhere you are lying in a white bed. The clock

on your thigh is ticking. Somewhere a human form

is being lifted from the ground.

 

Somewhere, yes, and I am counting. The clean note

with its numbers has changed. I will remember.

You are a location, with a bed.

 

The road ends somewhere in the flooding river

at dusk. Why here, strangers. A cartwheel in the stow hold

of a ship. A stranger who wheels it on the ice.

 

Somewhere the ship has frozen. The ship has frozen

in the ice. A frozen form. The ship cannot be lifted

from the purple sky at dusk.

 

Stain in the somewhere. You are lying in a white bed.

Why here is the river. On the thigh. Remember

what we did with clocks. Orange and purple.

 

Lovely trees in the frozen sky. Holding somewhere and threading

thighs. Strangers. I lay a stain on the white bed.

Remembering what tremendous purple things we did.

 

The mind ends every thing stirring. Somewhere the ship

is being lifted from the desert. Marvelous. You will change

from the river location to the sea.

 

Somewhere, things are happening. You are lying in the white bed

beside the sea with coffee. I am lying in the white bed.

Tremendous strangers. Blind roads in the sea.

Christine Gosnay