visitation

there are certain places

where inescapable things have happened

areas around us

clinging to points in time

there are interiors and exteriors that breathe

their own prophesies;

places where a combination of events

have merged together

into a fusion of actualities

there are places where air

matter and perception have collided

along the strand of equilibriums,

spilling universes into the floorboards,

casting novae across the ceilings

*

corridors along the way

blare the cicatrix of these moments

like mute sirens.

walls and windows are forever

reciting to us what they have witnessed,

whispering their tales

in short distilled sentences,

reverberating the echo of absent hours

so explicitly

they make no sound

*

my senses crawl

in between the paint and plaster,

feeling for the nanosecond,

that lingering sigh

trapped beneath the pavement.

my eyes scan the gases

holding the day together

swimming this translucent volume,

I separate the carbon from the monoxide,

excavating the inertia

between my body and the bricks,

sailing the unobtrusive moons

between now and then

*

for somewhere

in one of these places

there is a particular instant

awaiting me

somewhere, at this very moment,

there is a proverbial Mercury,

transiting dark orbits,

carrying a combination of events

within his hold…

each path brings me closer

towards this impact

of atmosphere and anatomy.

when all the surfaces surrounding me

shall mirror my angst

*

I wonder what colour the sky will be

on the day that we meet?

I wonder what shade of light

will fill that inevitable room?

when you suddenly appear from around the corner,

upon the hour we are to converge

and rattle,

what exotic fuels will you burn,

as we engage,

pitching sinister logarithms into the air

bending the afternoon backwards

turning space inside-out

winding amnesia around the silence