Afterward
Picture: Story.
Like many, we had fallen from that disease
and this was our conversation. The client: a stare
which like the stone rolled under its own weight
as we pressed forward. It was possessed–
a construction site some would call it.
But that was just the dialogue telling us
someone was sick inside. We had to cross
further away. (We did cross.)
But what was confiscated? Was it our hearts
which had been like the childs’ hearts,
had simply dived in?
Or was it the mind,
that we could see vanishing as we swam–
or couldn’t see, depending.
Or was it the body,
that we definitely couldn’t see,
if it wasn’t a buoy?
We needed some directions
to the glass castle sleepy with fish.
When would we reach it?
(Would we reach it soon enough?)