Statement

Years spent with the elegance, the mess,
of words,
practising honesty like a vocation,
tending and attending.
Dreams that riddle day or night
tell a different story:
of the life not lived,
the gulf, the knot, inside the body.
Intimacy: the fear behind decorum;
loneliness wastes you like a disease…
You wake breathless,
relearn the humble need for air
while images hold you in their closed fists.
You embrace powerlessness,
sit listening at a distance,
carving sounds on a page.