i remembered you quite well--
when you stood there before me,
looming, leering,
gesturing kindly.
you are from no place i have been,
headed nowhere i could ever dream of being
you scare me and solidify me and crush
me and i pass you by like your
are God's everyothertree
and i've seen you twice before and
i'll see you a thousand times again.
when you talk, i don't talk
because my larynx is blank,
making spaces in my throat upon which to craft
eloquent lines that my heart lacks
the courage to send to you.
when you talk, you talk of things
that deface your mouth at once
and make your fingers jitter with memory
but eventually, you pull open the horizon -
mother nature's son, czar of the seasons,
rat of the city;
and you fill my mind with the words
to revive thoughts that lay
overlooked and dormant in my mind,
punch my heart with the beats that were skipped
in some other place, in some forgotten time,
and tell me who --
i never knew all along --
i am.
i am the walrus,
i drain my body of what only sloshes around
inside of me anyway, and fill it
with the excruciating newness
of clean; my self
and your self
and our selves are the only halves
of an infinite sun.
that feeds the veins
that straggle this earth
and fills my mouth
with the spit to swallow.