461 Readings | 5 Ratings


I have walked up to and away from
behind and along
closely and at arm’s length

wandered right up to the edge
and pulled myself back
teetered, wobbled, veered.

I have tasted, smelled, watched
wondered and asked
listened and blocked my ears with my hands

buried my nose, closed my eyes
waited, wondered again
and breathed deeply, deeply.

There is nothing here I know.
There is nothing here I’ve ever known.
There is nothing here I can name.

Is there a name for this thing? I ask.
Is there a name for this place? I ask.
Is there a name for me here? I ask.

I press my hands to the sides of my head
so that the only answer is
the pounding in my ears. My own heart.
Posted 03/20/12
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