[Sometimes The Visionary Epiphany Is A Simple One]
Sometimes the visionary epiphany is a simple one: wind.
WHne to call & when not to call. Against absence we measure our absence. Like a sudden seizing, cold air rushes the highrise, seals some doors at its random whim, building's breath, slapping hatches open & closed like gills. Even that blind god, the elevator, pauses, hovers mid-shaft under gustheavy force, a force present though unseen.
In my dreams we ate ashes. Where are you? Your voice on the phone but the sidewalk charges ahead. the wail in the trees.
Your voice on the phone and in broken glass my image reflected, broken, a piece of neck, a partial ear, a snagged snakelike earphone wire.
O my love, what have we made of what we made.