A Word for a Play

Being pulled out of my language now speaking – witness translate I write – Our
Hands have never lied
Images hide a world – Images announce a world – describe what you see and go
Open up images – Do you see it – end of new eyes
What color is the black bird
Her name begins with the letter O or L and mine begins with me
not a sound – we haven`t created anything and lucky for leaks
That there is force between you and the crushing world is plenty
I want to remember what dreams are for – I don`t want to know what dreams mean
We will never be trained well enough like this
There will be no arrival – I am only speaking into you – Perhaps
the storyteller and the listener are the same – I write because I don`t know you at all
because outside agreements are a consideration I know I swore I`d never do it again
words create a simultaneous entry
The door is closed
The door is open
It began with a water drop – a drop of water
Textual kinship is good home training – It began with a text – translating yourselves to yourself
We are all in here
Can we choreograph my text – I don’t speak to say what I mean
I speak to our with that I may discover what I mean
What really needs to be said – we mustn`t quote each other anymore
Quotes are memory going deeper into where language shifts you
Write what happened to your body – where you went – not what was said
You were already there for so long – what opens us knows only the power of our organs
and collaboration and ears – I write to tell you I am here
that I will cut your fragments open your empty mouth ready

photo by Christelle Geiser