Picture

You are as invisible as pain.
I note the idea of your cruelty.
Instead, your capacity for the unseen surfaces.
I love most what I cannot see,
Making cruelty vanish, pain silently return.

Yet I think I hear your voice sometimes.

And I write to it as it spreads memory.
In its silence, I hear it, its air, thinned,
Its rivers, deeply cut, and to heal,
Narrowing in each mark. The words too far apart
to take hold.

But let me ask an impossible thing.

How do I recognize you in your absence?
Are you at the coffee shop on Wyndham?
Is your back turned as I photograph you
While out the window you look to the road
At someone I can not see?

Do I picture you picturing yourself disappear?

11/6/16 – Wellesley, ON

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s