Outside My
Window, The Silence is Slanted
Listen to the sound it makes
when you come out
of your skin and
see yourself, all naked;
Time is your own construction
it is not the ticking clock.
Drinking few photons
of stainless quiet
on a weekday
makes me a bee, sucking juices
out of the concrete corrosions
A sway, a dance
on the velvet breezes
Now,
translate me to anything.
Sing me, kiss me
your pulses swarm my space
like the radio-waves; psycho-magnetic
feel free to throw words at me
if you don’t feel like talking
call me,
when you are finished
writing an unsayable tale.
I traveled to
the archaic pre-histories
of my underground
to see my unborn face, and there
I was a pagan, the son of Earth
with a God, burning inside
the same God
who doesn't live in your shrines.
