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Buoy the population of the soul
Toward their destination before they drown
~ Robert Pinsky
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Thursday, 19. June 2003

Embodied Memory



The wolf like past circles as it returns Pushing me against the wall to measure And weigh, the flesh to cannibalize, To mark the wattage of my disappearing Glow against the raked skin.

It’s night and the darkness is measured By how far the nighthawk’s call reaches. You however stand beyond this so that I may not reach you. Yet every night My desire arises and like Judas attempts To betray me. We loudly haggle over the price.

So that I may feel just as I felt When even the awareness of your presence Was absent, like a storm that the weatherman couldn't have seen on his screen. Perhaps then things Would be easier to explain; this pain that you Gave me laughing, like so much menstrual blood.

You used other bodies to escape from yourself. There is no escape for me, from this body Of memory. So I surf along the curve of the waves, Paddling furiously, knowing very well how they Would crash over and submerge me.

I am naked. This is water And his body is wedging into yours, Into my memory; a shot splinter, Cold bone, pale white tile. I choke. The body flickers and goes out. Rain would find me on the floor.




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