we hold hands
create a connection

function as one
large being

one heart
one soul
one mind

we feel the energy
an invigorating force

sharing one life
we reach up

through the layer
above us

gain the vision
of the eagle

see across time
and space

into the meaning
of everything

it leaves us
wordless

we take a
vow of silence

I don’t know how to
act in solitude and silence anymore.
I have been conditioned for
the crowd and
electric mania.
Literally, I can hear
the scratch like sound of
the pen tip on
the paper—the strange
sounds my stomach is
making—distant digital
noises from my abdomen.
I don’t know what to
do with so much tranquility.
There is a gentle clicking
noise coming from inside
my head, like crickets
on a soft July night,
or the unlocking of the
door when at last she
makes it home.
I want to eat this
feeling on hot buttered
toast with raspberry jam.

she lays in gray
dreams of a fog

where she could
dissolve and

disappear

become a form
that has no

place or substance
that cannot be held

or controlled
by anyone

I do remember her hands
they were strong
and busy
she had long thin fingers
and pointy nails
she was always filing
her handwriting was
beautiful and
her doodles
were quite good
she made delicious meals
with them and
sewed and crocheted
frequently and quite well
even though she worked
in factories they were
not rough
I guess she took care
of them
I do remember her
nervous habits
smoking and
folding chewing gum wrappers
they were all over the
coffee table
I do that too
folding not smoking