The river will sing back.
This is poetry. Please read and enjoy.
i. we were copper once these same eyes (neither seen nor touched) now remembered in pictures in the space of a telephone pole in the vanishing, slit-black night awaken in your body and cover you like a bed of rain ii. in these same eyes a man unfolds like a miracle before a streetlight he came and played and wept and loved in sudden vehement colors if he dances long enough the earth will remember him will scatter the ashes on his proud forehead the river will sing back iii. that afternoon, i saw a river and entered it a man stepped into his grave i sang to him and he sang back but the river had no ideas about itself; no remembrance of daffodils no fondness for slit-black earth