Monday, December 14, 2009

Wash, Show.

show sun light from the day you died
if you came home
I would wash your feet, your back

wash me
wash your grave wash
your epitaph
wash suffering with
a linen cloth, fibers
soft and stern

show sun light
show blood show everyone
bullet holes and broken
wash their faces with salt
wash their TV screens
their newspapers their truth-tellers

show the moment of yourself
leaving yourself

wash me with belief
show belief
strutting toward eternity.

you died in sunlight

don’t come back through
letters wash me
language washes me
it is fertile it is never free
wash your grave
with language

If you came home
wash me wash each other
wash highways show light
show mountains wash rivers
all the places you were
wash them away

show death, wash life become
sacrifice become understood, shown
wash the sacrifice the feet of sacrifice
lavender water
sunset facing now and always
homeward moving.

1 comment:

  1. the wayward disquiet is all over this.
    hell yes.