Telling: Streams & Logs



A high gravity day. 
No small stillness will relieve it. 

The receiver slips from my ear, 
drawing with it all language, 
ladder rungs and rope.

The rope plays out.
It is full of knots.
A net. It holds everything I knew.

It floats. 

                 I sink.

Time veins over me like light through open water.

Somewhere far away you are saying hello.