Monday, September 13, 2004

Haibun - Tracelessness


Night and pain both have a love for the dark. Once
again, I find myself swallowing another pill. I have
lost count of the pale orbs but the pain knows, knows
precisely. And, as a dreaminess flows in me, the pain ebbs.

"I should have been an archaeologist of myself" I say, giggling.
My bones, bleached by the sun, will be awash, ashore. Hopefully,
they will be scattered. No Voodoo nerves to pinprick this flesh and
blood poppet or muscles to tie sailor's knots and angler's loops.

"Some day" I say, giddily."They will wonder about my life over my
death - yes, even though, oddly enough, the first made me yearn
for the second." But, a snowflake has drifted onto my hand, melting
with a sweetness that brings tears because already I am forgetting...

my pale face
in the dark window pane --

a cameo