in which surface shall i dwell?

  all the silences have broken loose

  and my body is unhinged by
  the bookish dreams of fingers.

  the stones tumble and fall
  in purer silence -- this distilled hour,
  where all the voices are webbed
  into speculative schemes, abstracts
  the truth.

  found ready and welcomed are the
  shadows that eat away in ******* light.
  no words succor me,
  no touch soothes me,
  no waters toll to quench
  the tragic grasp of all the fires
  and their murderous immediacy.

  the streets feast on the meaningless
  refrain of recall:
  such lines,
  i cannot remember the sound
    of my
        own name.