It’s like she’s lost
a limb. One-winged
she drones in circles,
tilted, out of kilter,
leans in doorways
left behind.
Lopsided, drowned
in a crowd, she stares
at walls for hours,
following the logic
of the brickwork
but the sums
make no sense:
two minus one becomes
none; she disappears.
Then again, loss
means increase:
enormously alone,
she fills rooms.
Stiff with solitude,
she is trapped in
small spaces. Landlocked,
she is a continent
without roads, without cities.
Maps are redundant:
all directions lead
to polar north.
Loss is totality:
bells shake out
no sound;
water runs dry
from the tap;
lanterns cast
no light;
she hangs in space,
a dark star,
all substance compressed
into a single voice,
tongueless, raw breath,
a sonar probe
reaching for
first words.
Words come like birth.
Light returns, blinding white.
Grief squalls, red with blood.
pic from: http://leh.tripod.com/ellisisland/ellisempty.jpg
10:55:41 PM 
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