Speaking with Pebbles

 



BORN. Casting off Stones (Speaking with Pebbles)


       On the beach    

                    each 

                      ache

bees

                      sting

                     skins                 

                       kinships

                             ships 

                              hips

                         Ice screams  melting     

                                    s       

                                            S      

                                          S

                                           S

                                          S

                                          S

                                       S

                                 S

                             Screams

                                                    cremated


          Stones stopped screaming,  speaking 

            from the mountain’s peaks          the first pebble was thrown 

   Inert yet alert. unwilling to swirl. 


-–measure the quantity of life and death of a pebble—  A Schrodinger’s cat? 

splash

a fossil; 3000-year-old creature locked in a 4 billion-year-old unnamed pebble ebbs off

in the water—sounds falling in the mouth. Splash 

An insect trapped inside the amber–sounds sealed in a mouth. Splash.


How did its last scream look like before being broken and covered by a lichen 

before being reshaped, reborn, and implanted with memory?

Splash     

And why don’t their ripples last more than 3 seconds? 

Splash


Consider their voice. Ice. Organic and fluid, they freeze, melt and multiply.

While the paralyzed ‘pebbled-body’ wounds

the silence, the air 

when in space inserted

it digs in and creates a micro-space. 


A pebble in the water— an embryo in the amniotic sac

Consider the babies’ scream when expelled from the womb 

The first sign of life 

S S S S Splash 


Beneath her skin

Still so much

         Stillness. layers of s i l e n c e

building up. 

bees  buzzing

collect honey from the b l o o d

 

Beneath her skin

war words swords.

 

In the mirror, two fluid bodies

  collide and calibrate

ebbing in the distance

   of her eyes ice eyes

on and  o f f.

 

bodies changing position

     like floating letters- anagrams of flesh

 

Listen to her smell, as it falls and lingers

on her flesh, for a while.

 

While peeling the pulpy orange

squeezing a sticky juice and

nails carving a poem in her skin.

 

She could stretch the w o r d s  like  l e g s

   Wander/lust between corals

into the depths of her ocean.

 

a seabed that pulsates, dilated and retractile tactile walls 

  

Beneath her skin it emerges

       an apocalyptic scream

filling the space between arteries

        between w o r d s.

 

And everything stops.

       Slices of silence cut like bread.

 

Beneath the skin - sensors to guide her outside

fingers sliding to the exit- touches that stay

building a palimpsest out of her body.

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