translation of a heart, pt ii

part ii;

of roads that ceaselessly travel

towards you

.. i cup your shadow in my hands,

the darkened

cloud you have become

the faceless stamp that now is you...

can i slowly

rebuild you?

trace the steps you gave

barefoot

in this room..

i never meant to see them

forever..

walk away...

.. i clutch so firmly your edges,

one empty contour

in this blindness 

recast you in small particles of light..

can i breathe your essence into my

anamnesis of you?

walk on newborn bricks

upon this

stale, arid land...

i never meant to go eyeless

having miles left

in these horizons with no end...

c. January, 2001

the green cargo note pad

onboard USS Bonhomme Richard

Aft Main Machinery Room

underway, Pacific Ocean

curated at TBNH