Life in Four Acts

(A short account)

I. Irruption/Interruption

          a stone breaks the surface

          a spear frees the content

          the figure on the threshold confirms

          a mirrored world

II. Memories of Breathing

cavities expand through time

in chained echoes

propelling

the history of air

III. The Separation Principle

deaf to each other

an accumulation of voices

converse

in deceptively convincing patterns

IV. A Process of Longing Unfulfilled

the air aches

to touch the air

but nothing moves

in the country without wind

 

(meanwhile                           

  )

Clockwise

I have this idea you know that there is a clock for everything we do, there is a clock for walking, for eating, for blinking a clock for everything do you follow? Yes? Well then these clocks are always ticking, always ticking, always ticking and when the time in a clock runs out the clock breaks the hour hand trips on the minute hand and both fall down and there is no way you can fix it do you follow? Yes? So when the clock breaks it no longer ticks and it can’t count the time so that thing you used to do simply stops happenning.

 

There is :

a clock for kissing

a clock for breathing

a clock for missing

and a clock for waiting

There is:

a clock for crying

a clock for dreaming

a clock for feeling

and a clock for wishing

There is also a clock for sex

a clock for touch

a clock for her

and also a clock

for everyone else

 

Of all of them the clock of life ticks faster,

the clock of death well it knows no master.

 

But don’t worry my friend

since nothing’s really at a stake:

in all the clocks it is already too late.

In Dreams

My breath then stops in an amber-encased gasp. Gravity stops functioning and all the stars in her eyes lock into a perfect pattern more beautiful than anything the universe could ever conceive. My hand in her hand feels her tightening grasp as the last spasms shake my body and my thoughts. For an instant, her hand in my hand are the only forces in existence and between our closed palms we hold the secret truth that lies beyond every soul.

When time awakes we let it go and it runs away without looking back, because it knows that we could catch it if we wanted to.

But we won’t. We don’t need to. We already have each other.

Time bends to our will and we give birth to the stars.