“It’s all a language you can learn to read”
–Pina Bausch
I struggle with my meaning each day
the grappling with the conversations
within the larger context of the past
coupled with my inarticulate illiteracy
compels me to return in silence alone
after the bodies have been cleared and blood
scraped from stone streets so I can read
what was written across the night to now
slowly sounding out each word like a child
bent over her first reader in wonder
at the world rising to life from the dead
phrases that have passed between us
and I worry these echoes nestled between gaps
to winnow what’s there from what I want to hear
(July 31, 2013)
subtext 