the past is a voice
you do not name

it has too many parts
you are the center

but you are never
the star

it is a breakable
chain that holds

you back

attached to all
your weak parts

it repeats itself
but you never

see the pattern
it has so many

voices

she masters
the body

for a time
controlling

desire with
fire

then moves
her attention

to the mind
using sound

and space

to enter
thought

and washes
the brain

clean of
all but her

if all we said
we said
leaving nothing
unsaid
would we
understand each
other more or less
is there space
for space
between us
does space give
us more meaning
to play with
each other or
more space to
play with others

early evening
darkness descends
in clouds
a lightning flash
a thunder crack
a window open
curtains move
is that the
sound of breath
or the wind
is that a touch
or a breeze
I shiver
and try to
keep still

feeling loss

silence is naked
desire is a

shrinking violet

a blurry body
captures subtle

movement

the essence of
change

you have no form
you are ill defined

and loosely connected

you remain
unknowable

to me

I am losing

shedding or peeling
snake or an onion

my thoughts
carve away

another layer
of myself

going deeper
into something

I call myself

all these sediments
all these past lives

how many layers
must I lose

until I can see
the eye

or will I just
disappear

if I let go
I will sink
I am too heavy to float
my head is dense
like a forever forest
that never faces fall
everything that enters
mixes with everything
already there
I cannot sleep
my dreams are too intense
layers upon layers
secret passages
dead ends
I can barely find my way out
and eventually
I may not want to
what happens then
who will ever find me
in my forever forest