We mimic the shape of the water with our selves if it’s
true this is what I long for
This is such that my hand in the grass is glass and is also
understood
A grey sky and people pausing below trees their arms as
branches
Faces down in the grass we press our bodies into no order
we know
Better then to blend in to take on the shape of the hill the
pond the passerby
A smattering a metal mind you put your head down
without asking her
Moving parallel to various planes and fingers fanned out
to feel the bleed
Arm aches from being held up for so long I shake it too
soon and out of place
Hand on bark beside the others’ fan of hands she circles
and longingly listens
Not to look any closer but to inch forward to invite a type
of pain
Pulled in and then repelled the icy fountain down to here
where ice is slow stagnation
I ached the next day due to groups the subtle sign a run to
follow and open
Terrific veering brought on my pleasure and hers as sharp
as seduction and then
I dropped the gesture mine was static up the stairs with
an arm anticipating
Repeating a map and a plan and I am and am not here for
the man
One by one off the row held against her and quickly
discarded
Beginning as we walked on stage and took our bags back
and wrote our names
Not looking down to see what may be in it a kind word is
also a warning
I could bend over to put powder on the floor as you tell
me how you will lift it
Hands to the back of the head and sound sings a way
through the trees
Or break away from the others and run so all can see the
new formation
We stood one by one beside the water opening vision
with arm lines
The stopping of it not long in the body soon words come
and shake another one again
The one I aim for and the one I move in are now distant
but by more than one
Arms as though eyes and music added on as a way of
embracing
A way to move between drops and abort them the likes of
those who draw lines
You will not see but make a hole the same size and put in
my invitation
Holes do attract another agency had we done it but no we
only stood
Otherwise it can drop and drag and then be written and
thus reinstated
With seriousness such that I felt a pressure not to stay put
but begin
I run fast and faster in orange sandals toward the green
tree
To move closer and refrain in the dark day after day
running in lines
Around a tree a foot folded the bark rough and my hand
getting up too
Collapsing in the warmest corner and drawing the
diaphragm down
Between each of us along the line of instruction and then
exceeding it
Every morning I plan the purchases I put my hand there
and gently release
Had we been able to mimic the sky in our moving who
would be there to be
And then there is the need to pull into interiors to softly
incline
People stopping to add their movement to ours though
none knew how to pause
To be so clear of moving into pressure in over and
around for the mind
